


Baby, can you see through the tears?

by prettybratty



Series: Baby, Can You See Through the Tears [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy's friends with everyone, Boys Kissing, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Harringrove, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, SO, Spanking, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, and a good thrashing according to Billy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2020-10-14 20:51:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 60,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20607128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybratty/pseuds/prettybratty
Summary: There are a few things that Billy knows about Steve Harrington. Not a single one of them explains Harrington's weird as fuck behavior lately.(or, when Steve acts out, it's apparently up to Billy to fix it, even if he doesn't know it himself yet).





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I kinda started writing this and couldn't stop.  
Hope it's up someone's alley.  
Also hope I didn't mess up the tags.  
And also hope you come and talk to me in the comments about all of this madness.  
Like, pretty please.

There are a few things that Billy knows about Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington is the biggest kids' friend Hawkins ever knew. Steve Harrington is rich, kinda spoiled and extremely lonely boy. He's also endearingly sweet, sometimes bratty and hot as fuck. Especially when starring in _Billy's dreams_, not that it _matters_ right now.

He knows that Steve Harrington is scared of the darkness, of the woods, especially at night, and water, especially in his own pool. Billy also knows that Harrington doesn't know that he actually knows _why_ _exactly_ he's scared of all of those. Max talks in her sleep, specifically when they're alone in the house and she's having the nightmares. After a few suspicious questions from Billy Hopper decided it's better to just fill him in on everything's going on in this godforsaken town - and had to answer even _more_ questions after that. So, Billy knows what Harrington's nightmares are made of. He just hasn't figured out how to tell the boy about it yet.  
  
Anyway, not a single one of those things that he knows explains Harrington's _weird as fuck_ behavior lately.  
  
"No," Billy hears him scoffing at no one else than Nancy Wheeler. "S' the wrong answer."  
Nancy gapes at him. Everyone shares a weird look. Everyone knows it's a _correct_ answer, and also that Harrington's definitely not the brightest student to argue with freaking Miss Priss.  
Of course, he just fails the test.  
  
"No," he hears Harrington telling Jonathan, obviously annoyed. "You're doing it all wrong! Lemme handle it myself."  
And he proceeds to almost break Byers' camera. Because _of fucking course_ Jonathan is right and Harrington has no idea what he's doing. Luckily, Byers manages to grab his precious treasure from Harrington's clumsy hands, wondering out loud what's fucking wrong with him.

Valid question. Harrington just huffs and walks away, though.  
  
"_No_," Billy is growing _fucking tired_ of hearing this stubborn tone. Now Harrington's arguing with their English teacher. _For fucks sake._  
"No, I don't care about freaking Hamlet and speaking of that detention, I don't give a single..."

"Excuse us, Mrs. Brown," Billy flashes the scandalized teacher his most charming smile, grabbing Harrington's jacket firmly.

The boy just gulps and stays still. Huh.

"Harrington's here a bit under the weather today. It's fever speaking, forgive him please. He'll bring his work on Hamlet tomorrow, I promise."

Harrington's about to say something, and it's probably going to dig him a deeper grave, so Billy just kicks him in the shin and smiles wider. Eventually Mrs. Brown lets them off the hook, giving Billy the playful look - _seriously_ \- and fixing Harrington with a stern one and telling them to visit the doc. Billy thanks her and leads stupid Harrington down the hall.

"M' not writing that shit," Harrington hisses at him. Such a _grateful_ kid, honestly.  
There's a shift to his tone though. It's kinda not quite as stubborn as before.

"Oh you are _so_ doing it, pretty boy, you have no idea," Billy snarls at him, rummaging through his own backpack and handing Harrington his notes on Hamlet. "Here, take it. Just change something and rewrite, is all."  
He doesn't actually know why he's doing it.

Harrington blinks at him, then takes the notes hesitantly.  
"Thanks," the boy's voice is quiet and confused, but his eyes are genuine. "Thanks, Billy."

It's the most calm and polite Billy's seen him in weeks.

  
***

  
"What's going on with your babysitter?" Billy asks Max in what he hopes is the most casual manner, wolfing his morning cereals down.

"What's with Steve?" Max frowns, fixing herself Nutella on toast.

It's the third one for the morning, and Billy's tempted to give her a look, but he really needs to fish the information out of her. Besides, chocolate is made of the cacao beans, which grow on the tree, so technically Nutella is kinda a healthy breakfast?

"Seems like something's crawled up his ass lately," he says matter of factly. "S' like the guy thinks the ground gonna swallow him if he's not being a stubborn lil shit to everyone."  
"Sounds more like you," Max huffs, but her frown deepens. "You're sure you're talking about _Steve Harrington_?"

Billy simply reaches out for the Nutella jar, withholding it from her and looking expectantly.

"Give it back, Billy!" she makes grabby hands, but he doesn't budge. "I dunno, nothing like that happens when we hang out, okay? He actually let Dustin try to drive his BMW, and asked Will to show him how to draw stuff, and lets El and me braid his hair. Steve's _cool_, okay?"

She snatches the jar out of his hands, and Billy lets her, cause he's deep in thought. Turns out Harrington's crankiness is off when he's with the little freaks. It has to mean something important, Billy just can't grasp it yet.

He almost misses it when Max adds quietly.  
"It's just he seems lost sometimes."  
"What do you mean _lost_?"  
"I dunno," she scrunches her face, stealing Nutella right from the jar. "Remember that puppy we found on the street? Back in Cali?"

Billy remembers. Max _begged_ to keep it, but he knew that no puppy's safe near his monster of a dad, so he put all his effort in finding the puppy a better home. The neighbor family took it, and it's a lovely family, and the pup had no idea how lucky he was, and Max cried herself to sleep that night. She did understand later, though. Doesn't mean it's easy. Even now, after the Chief had that _'little talk'_ with Neil, resulting in Billy for the first time in his life being safe from his fists and Neil being out of town most of the time, he's still not sure about the safety of getting a pet in their house.

Billy shakes himself out of his thoughts, remembering how that Cali puppy had big sad brown eyes, all helpless and vulnerable and _fragile_.  
He gets where Max sees he resemblance to Harrington. Something tightens in his chest.  
Max manages to scarf almost half of the jar down, and Billy's still sitting there, trying to put two and two together.

  
***

  
The whole gang hangs out in the pool, giving Billy hard time keeping an eye on them. Everything's coated in hazy pink dusk, the warm wind blowing on the wet skin, and Hawkins is getting ready to dive into the dark and starry summer night.

It's nearly after hours, and they are the only ones left in the pool. Billy sits in his lifeguard chair, watching Max and El splashing around, laughing carefree. The boys are showing off, trying to get the perfect dive. Not all of them though, little Byers is just sitting at the pool's edge, dangling his legs and smiling at his friends. He's the most quiet of the kids. Billy maybe _almost_ likes him.  
  
The air smells of something sweet and fragile. It may or may not have something to do with Steve Harrington staring into the space with a stubborn pout, slumped in the lounger. When his favorite curly-haired kid calls for him to watch how he dives, Harrington is quick to hide the pout under the almost real smile. _Almost_. Not to Billy though.  
  
The air turns chillier. Summer isn't in the full swing yet, the night's going to be cold. The kids don't seem to notice it though, still horsing around and being loud. Billy's ready to thank God when Joyce and Hopper come to collect them.  
  
"Hey, fancy a dive, Chief?" Billy gives Hopper a smirk, saluting the cop and coming near them. "Maybe you, Joyce?"  
  
It still feels surreal - he's kinda friends with all these people in the pool, from the little weirdos to the grizzly-look-alike cop and the softest mom, and also the stubborn boy with luscious hair and fragile doe eyes. More than friends, _a family_, probably, not that he's ever gonna say it out loud.  
  
"Maybe the other day, sweetheart," Joyce pecks him on the cheek, her smile warm. "Look at all this tan, what's it, the Californian thing?"

Billy laughs, shaking his head. He loves being around her. It almost feels like he has a mom now too.

"Careful, El," Hopper watches the girl like a hawk, all furrowed brows and tense shoulders.  
"She's great," Billy assures him. "Swims like she's some sort of a mermaid."  
Hopper casts him a look, humming, but his posture softens.  
  
Soon the kids are scurrying to change and get in Joyce's and Hopper's cars - whining about wanting to swim more, _of course_. They are going to the Byers, all of the snotty gang, Max included. Billy thanks his lucky stars.  
  
Joyce gets to Harrington, who's still laying in the lounger, like he doesn't feel the chill in the air.

"You're a bit sweaty, honey," she touches his forehead worryingly, and everything about her just screams 'mom', and Harrington seems to lean into the touch. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," he smiles at her, and it's almost-almost real, like the one he gives to Dustin and other little shits. "Just a hot day, I guess."

"Last night wasn't so hot," Hopper looms over the lounger, hands on his hips, and _uh-huh_, seems like someone's in trouble. "And you were seen wandering around. The quarry isn't a particularly good place for the night walks alone, kiddo."

Billy looks at him, puzzled and confused. _Harrington_, all alone in the night? What the actual fuck?

"S' not like it's a crime, huh?" Harrington bites out, and woah, that stubbornness is back and kicking. He gives Hop a challenging look, and everything in Billy screams_ 'bad idea'_. Apparently, Harrington doesn't have any survival instincts whatsoever.  
  
"Hey! Watch the attitude," The Chief all but growls, and that's some alpha-of-the-pack voice that no one messes with.

Except for maybe one certain stupid pretty boy.

Harrington raises from his lounger, the same challenging look on his face, and simply asks.  
"Or what?"

Joyce's eyes are wide, and Billy's sure his own are the same, Jesus, even _Hopper's_ are, until he squeezes them into dangerous slits.  
"Look, I don't know what's the problem, but if I were your dad, kiddo..."

"Too bad you aren't," Harrington tells him right off the bat and has the nerve to freaking turn on his hills and leave.  
  
Billy can tell he's almost running away though. He can tell Hopper's hands are itching as if he's _this_ close to taking Harrington over his knee. Not that Billy'd blame him. What's _more_ interesting though is that he can also tell that Harrington _himself_ seems itching to be taken over someone's knee lately.

Billy senses the bitterness in his words, like he actually thinks it's too bad that Hopper isn't his dad.  
He doesn't really know what to do with all this information.  
  
The Chief wants to go after Harrington, but he's stopped by Joyce's hand on his back.  
"Let him go, Hop," her voice is soft, but she means it, and he stops instantly.  
Billy smiles at the duo's dynamic.

"Haven't seen his parents for ages," Joyce sighs, looking at the pool's calm water and shivering a bit, the twilight getting bluer and thicker and chillier by a minute. "Maybe since the New Year party."  
  
It's fucking summer.  
  
"This boy's in such need of a _good firm hand_, I swear," Hop growls, shooting daggers. "What the hell's wrong with him?"  
  
They both turn to Billy and hey, when has it become _his_ responsibility?

Except in a way, it is, and he knows it. Deep inside he took it months ago, after that horrid November night when they fought, aka he's almost beaten Harrington to death, and swore to himself afterwards there was no coming back to being that monster. After he's got the freedom from _his own_ monster. After he just kinda accepted what he _actually feels_ towards the boy and decided to just roll with it.  
  
"I dunno," he mutters, their worried looks making him frown. "He's like that all the time lately. With everyone..."

Except the kids, he wants to say.

"With everyone who's kinda an _authority_," he understands all of a sudden.  
Nancy, the best student. Jonathan, the smart ass and tech geek. The teacher. The Chief.

"He's not like that to _you_, though," Joyce says in a soft voice, like she's trying to tell him something more important.  
"Does that mean I'm not any authority to him?" Billy chuckles darkly. "I'm flattered."

Hopper shakes his head, definitely tired of all this shit and having enough on his plate.

"Maybe that means quite the _opposite_," Joyce tells Billy like a secret, laced with one more warm smile, and then she's back to her usual tone. "You should come to the dinner, sweetheart. All the kids are at ours tonight."

Hopper lets out a pained growl at this, and Billy can't help but laughs.

"Thanks, maybe the other day," he promises Joyce. "Gotta run some errands tonight. Thanks for having Max."

She tells him that it's a pleasure, and that she's holding him up to his promise, and that he needs some rest. Billy nods to all of this.  
Then the couple leaves the pool, arguing about whether or not they should shop for more groceries on the way. It's awfully domestic and heartwarming as shit.  
  
Billy thinks about the night coming, ready to coat the town in its cold and starry blanket. He has _zero_ errands to run. He wonders where he can find one stubborn, doe-eyed idiot.

  
***

  
Billy drives around the whole town with no result. Thanks God he doesn't need to watch Max and there's no work tomorrow. He starts worrying for real and even thinks of calling the Chief when he suddenly finds Harrington on the road near the woods.

Billy cuts through the night with the Camaro's headlights bright, and someone's silhouette is on the side of the road. He slams his brakes, hoping it's _not_ some interdimensional monster because it would be pretty_ dumb_ of him to stop in this case. There's no monster.

What he finds is startled Steve Harrington, looking like a literal deer in the headlights.

He's still in his shorts and tshirt, as if it's not cold as fuck for this attire.

Billy looks closer and his brows climb up his forehead. Harrington's completely wet, clothes and shoes and everything, dark hair plastered to his forehead, dripping water everywhere.

Billy gapes at him.

"What the _hell_, Harrington?!"  
He gets out of the car. Harrington tries to shield his eyes from the bright light.

"Where's your BMW?"

"I just went for a walk," his voice is rough, like he spent hours screaming or crying. "On foot."  
"Uh-huh."  
In the most fitting time too.

"What's that, someone poured a bucket of water on you, pretty boy?" Billy motions to his soaked clothes, and something's seriously, seriously wrong.

Harrington sets his jaw, looking at the stars.  
"I went for a swim."

"Excuse me?!" He what?! "To where exactly?"  
Billy already knows the answer, and something hot and angry is boiling in his chest.

"The quarry."

"The fuck, Harrington?!" he yells at him, because _what the hell_, really. "You _never_ put your toe in the pool, everyone knows you're afraid of the water, and suddenly you're going all bold, swimming in the fucking _quarry_?! At night?!"

"I'm _not_ afraid of the water!!!" Steve screams so loud some birds are flying off the tree nearby.

Billy feels his teeth gritting.  
"Yes you are. You're scared of the water and you're scared of the darkness, so I don't really understand what's this shit supposed to mean."

"I'm not," Harrington's voice breaks, sounding desperate and miserable and so, _so_ scared. "Not afraid of the darkness!"  
  
What happens next is something Billy could've never predicted. Harrington shoots him one desperate look, then all of a sudden bolts into the woods. Next moment he's already disappeared in its pitch-black mass.  
  
Billy's sure he runs right after him. But at the same moment it feels like he loses _hours_, just staring unbelievably at where he's seen Harrington's back in his white tshirt.

He's gonna _kill_ the asshole.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
Oh, and the title is from Lana Del Rey's "Blue jeans" bc I felt this music kinda fits here.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy sees red. He should leave this idiot right now, should fucking go and let him do whatever dumb shit he's up to. Except he can't. Because it's his idiot, even if he's not quite ready to admit it to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we go.  
This chapter somehow got a bit bigger than it was planned.
> 
> Hope you like it.

The woods are dark and silent and _fucking scary_, and Billy's not even ashamed to admit it.

He stumbles and almost falls and nearly breaks his leg twice, but keeps running with the same speed. He just can't fucking afford being late right now.

"Harrington!"

He stops and swallows hard, panting, looking around and trying to find a mop of brown hair or a white tshirt. No such luck.

It's not so silent anymore. The air's suddenly swarmed with undefinable creepy sounds. Something's screeching. Something's rustling. Right above Billy's head some bird is _fucking_ _hooting_ all of a sudden, scaring the shit out of him.

There's no sight of Harrington. No sound of him too. It's like he's melted into dark, and Billy has icy chills creeping up his spine.

The Chief promised there are no monsters in Hawkins anymore. But what if? What if there's still something left, hiding in the woods, waiting, watching, pacing, getting ready to rob Billy of _something_ he doesn't even understand fully yet?

"Harrington!!!"

His head is going to explode from all the 'what ifs' screaming at him. Monsters aside, there might be wild animals, and criminals, and dumb Harrington can just trip over something and get injured.

And okay, Billy doesn't know a thing about these fucking woods' fauna - not that he _needs_ to - and there probably are no criminals in Hawkins right now, and he might be lucky enough for Harrington to not trip over his own feet. But the dumbass can simply get lost here pretty fucking easily.

And what's Billy supposed to do then?! How can he find him when he doesn't even know a thing about this godforsaken place?! All alone, in the dark, without anyone knowing where the fuck they are. He swallows the panic rising in his chest, suffocating him, making his head swimming.

Billy squeezes his eyes shut, trying _not_ to think about what might be watching him from the woods right now, and counts to twenty. It calms his mind a bit. It also helps him see in the dark.

He searches more, going from promising to kill the bastard to praying that he'd do _anything_, just please, let this idiot be okay, _please_, he never prayed about anything so _desperately_, even when he was hiding from drunk Neil, hoping that he wouldn't find him.

_"Steve!!!"_

He almost misses it. The sound's so tiny and weak that it's a wonder his ears catch it.

There's something white near the big tree. _Something_ that looks like a tshirt on a teenage boy. It's not moving. For one horrible second Billy's heart freezes in his chest. He goes to the tree, his legs numb and throat tight.

Harrington's pressing his back into the tree's trunk, eyes squeezed shut. Billy hears his erratic breathing and finally is able to breathe himself. He's alive. _He's fucking alive._ Billy squeezes Harrington's hand, just to make sure he's real. The skin is cold to touch.

"Fucking _hell_, Harrington!!! Are you okay? Are you hurt?!" he scans the boy for injuries, doesn't find any.

Billy shakes him and Harrington opens his eyes, startled. It's really dark, but Billy still can see fear and hurt in those eyes. He squeezes his hand harder, and Harrington licks his lips, breathing hard.

"M' scared, Billy."

And there's a lot of things Billy really wants to say in return, like 'No shit, honey' and 'Why the hell are you doing this' and 'I was freaking out about you being _dead_ already, _you piece of shit_'.

"Here, hold my hand. Let's go," he settles for this instead. "We're getting out of here, yeah?"

Harrington licks his lips again, eyes darting around, completely terrified. Billy tugs at his hand, making them both move.

"S' okay," he soothes in a soft voice, and he'll think later where the _hell_ this soft voice is even coming from. "No monsters here, it's safe, I've got you."

Harrington's eyes are huge, mouth forming a perfect 'O'.

"What are you..."

Oh. Right.

"I know, pretty boy. About _everything_ that happened, okay?" and it's probably not the perfect time and place to break the news, but shit. "That Upside Down shit or whatever. _I know_. I've got you, yeah? You're safe with me."

Fuck him if it's not the sappiest crap ever coming out of his mouth. Harrington does _things_ to him. Jesus.

Harrington watches him for a long second, all cautious, and then nods, biting his lower lip.

"I trust you."

His whisper rings in Billy's ears during their whole way back to the road. He feels Harrington clutching on him for dear life, and holds his hand firmly in return.

The woods are suddenly not that dark and scary, even with all those creepy noises - not anymore, not for Billy. Because somehow, after all they've been through, this doe-eyed boy _trusts_ him. He can definitely work with that.

***

It's not until they get back all the way to the car when the anger and the fear of what could've happened flood Billy again. _What the actual hell._

"What the actual hell, Harrrington?!" he shakes the boy a little. "What was that for, huh?"

The boy shivers in his soaked wet tshirt and shorts, but it won't kill him. Unlike the monsters or hell knows what in the woods. Billy suddenly thinks of the quarry and Harrington swimming there. In the dark. All alone. He grits his teeth. The asshole could've pretty much _fucking drowned_. Also who even swims there?!

"I fucking asked you a question," his growl gives Hopper's a run for his money. "What was that stunt for."

Harrington has the audacity to go all defensive. He's got this look again, all stubborn and bratty and just _begging_ for trouble.

"If I'm scared, I'm weak," he nothing but spits out. "And I can't be weak. Just...can't afford it."

This is _so_ fucked up that Billy just blinks.

"What? Why?! Bullshit!"

Harrington lets out a nervous laugh at the last word, wincing like Billy hit him.

"Oh yeah, I'm _bullshit_ to fucking everyone."

"I didn't say that, you asshole."

But he doesn't even listen, angry stubbornness in full force, and Billy just _craves_ to wipe it out of his face.

Preferably with a punch.

"No, y'know what, _everybody_ minds their own business!" Harrington yells, waving his arms wildly and almost hitting Billy in the face. "Nancy's with Jonathan, Hopper has his hands full, my parents are _always_ fuck knows where, and the kids, huh, they need to be protected by me, not the other way around! So yeah, trust me, I mean it, when I say I can't! Fucking! Afford! Being scared!"

He finishes with pushing Billy in the chest. The fucking nerve_._

"S' not like that!" Billy yells at him, trying his _hardest_ not to lose it.

He doesn't even push him in return. It's not going to last long though.

"It fucking is. There's no one to take care of me if I'm weak," Harrington snorts, shaking his head, furious and stubborn and...hurt? "And I don't fucking fancy dying because of some stupid fear. So y'know what, _fuck off_, Hargrove."

_Bad idea._

Billy sees red. He should leave this idiot right now, should fucking go and let him do whatever dumb shit he's up to. Except he can't. Because it's _his_ idiot, even if he's not quite ready to admit it to himself.

"You could've very well died tonight, trying to get rid of this fear," he seethes with anger. "There's brave and then there's dumb, and you're definitely being the second. So help me, if you as much as _dare_..."

"Then _what_? What would you fucking do, huh?!" Harrington scoffs in his face, all defiance, eyes full of angry tears ready to spill.

But Billy's witnessed this scene tonight already, with Hopper, at the pool. He hasn't seen Harrington's eyes properly back then, but he surely sees them now.

There's so much hurt. And bitterness. And..._pleading_, like a SOS signal. His eyes are way more desperate than back then at the pool. Everything in him is _way_ more desperate than it was in his stubborn attitude _all this fucking time_.

Joyce's voice is suddenly ringing in Billy's ears. _'Maybe that means quite the opposite.'_ She's one wise woman, after all. He needs to tell her that.

"What would I fucking do, pretty boy?" Billy's husky whisper is dangerous, he can tell.

Harrington gulps, but huffs a bitter laugh anyway, eyes never leaving Billy's.

"Fucking _nothing_, Hargrove."

Yep. Still no survival instinct whatsoever.

It's Billy's raw instinct when he grabs the back of Harrington's neck and slams their mouths together, lips bruising and teeth clanking.

He kisses him furiously, biting and licking, going all in, like he craved for such a _fucking long time_. The boy's lips taste like salt and water and something oh so summery sweet.

Harrington lets out a tiny surprised _'ooh'_ and then - and then he's _answering_, crashing Billy's lips with his own, nothing gentle or soft. He's fucking answering. Hungrily, eagerly, desperately.

Billy definitely needs to wrap his mind around it. Not now though. Later.

He breaks the kiss reluctantly, panting, his breathing hard and whole body on fire. Harrington fucking _whines_, but there will be time for it, plenty of time, and right now is _not_ about kisses.

Right now is about letting the lesson sink in. About giving the boy that good firm hand Hopper was talking about.

Without any word Billy squeezes Harrington's nape, turning the boy around and roughly bending him over the Camaro's hood.

"What the fuck are you..."

"_Shut. Up,_" Billy snarls, and Harrington goes silent, his breathing erratic.

Billy looks at his shoulder blades, trembling under the wet thin cotton of the tshirt and thinks of all the dark and dangerous places ready to swallow the boy whole. _His_ boy.

What if Billy didn't find him. _What if..._

It's not the same white hot anger he felt when he used to get into the fights, not that cruel need to break something. It's like he's mad, and worried, and glad that everything's okay, and frustrated, and wants to fucking kill the stupid boy in front of him but at the same time would kill anyone who as much as threatens him.

"No one to care, huh, pretty boy?" he growls, palms itching already. "Fucking _wrong_ answer."

Harrington's breath hitches the same moment as Billy lays the first hard slap on his ass. It's not like the fight, with fists and blood and feral craving of hurting. It's about putting him in his place, about authority, about keeping him safe, about _care_, and it's actually too complicated to think about, so Billy just trusts his instincts.

He's not holding back, _really_ putting his force into every fucking blow in a rapid violent pace.

"The fucking _nerve_, you asshole!" he punctuates every word with a sharp slap. "Could've used that pretty head of yours to _think_ for once! Before shitting on people who actually _fucking care_ about you!"

The thin wet material of Harrington's shorts must intensify the sensation. Good.

Somehow Harrington's not even fighting back, not even trying to dodge the blows or get out of Billy's firm grip - he just stays in his place obediently, taking it all, holding on the Camaro's hood for dear life, back flinching.

He's mostly silent too, and now that's a real shock, what with Harrington being mouthy as hell all the fucking time.

Billy's palm smarts, but he thinks of the boy in front of him being alone somewhere in the dark and sees red.

Harrington whines and starts squirming under his ruthless blows.

"Plant your fucking feet!" Billy barks.

Harrington's body freezes immediately, like he's trying real hard to be _good_. So he stays put, all muscles tense, and only lets out tiny noises.

Billy hardly hears him in between loud slaps, but then he catches a small whimper, the one that takes him back to that Cali puppy again, and _motherfucking shit_.

He stops the spanking, swallowing hard, pulls the boy up and turns him around.

Harrington's face is red and wet, and it's definitely not from the swimming.

Billy just stares. The guy never shed a single tear after he basically left him a bloody and bruised mess last fall, but now...

Harrington glances at him from under his wet lashes, suddenly all defenseless and vulnerable and so, _so_ fragile.

Billy really wants to tell him something soft, to ask if it hurts too much, to tell him that he cares, to praise him that he took everything so, so good.

"Don't you think I'm gonna pull some sappy shit now, Harrington," he grumbles instead, wanting to slap himself in the face. "You had it coming."

Harrington winces, trembling a bit. Billy can't say if it's from the nerves, or from the pain, or from the cold.

"Okay," he whispers obediently, looking at his Nike-clad feet, and fucking sniffs.

Billy lets out a heavy sigh, grabs Harrington's collar and jerks him into a hug.

The boy whimpers weakly, holding onto Billy's jacket, like he's begging to be hugged, to be _loved_, to be given some warmth. His muscles are tense though, as if he's bracing himself to be pushed off.

Something aches deeply in Billy's chest.

"Easy, easy, easy," he mutters, drawing soothing circles on his back. "I've got you."

Harrington's big stupid eyes are glossy and hesitant, and it's actually pretty amusing how oblivious he is.

"Jesus, you really are thick, pretty boy," Billy sighs. "Or blind. Or both. I fucking care about your stupid ass, more than I would ever admit out loud, so..."

He never finishes, because Harrington decides to fucking nuzzle his neck.

Billy holds him in a tight hug, suddenly feeling all calm and warm inside.

His heart hammers in his chest. It's new. It's weird. He wants it to never stop.

***

They stay like this until Harrington's shivering becomes too much and Billy decides they can cuddle somewhere else, without the threat of catching pneumonia or some shit.

He curses under his breath, shimmying out of his jean jacket. Of fucking course he didn't think of it before.

"Take it off," he tugs on Harrington's soaked tshirt. Billy can definitely appreciate how it clings to his lean body, but he'd rather not get the boy sick.

He kinda expects protesting, but Harrington listens to him immediately. _Huh_.

He takes the tshirt off - the view becomes even _better_ \- but the boy's shaking with cold, so Billy wraps him into his jean jacket and pushes into the car.

Luckily, Harrington's place isn't too far away.

"C'mon, move it, pretty boy. We're going to yours."

Billy's focused on driving out of here, so he's not really paying attention to the boy near him for a few moments.

Harrington is suspiciously quiet, just grunting and squirming in the seat. Then Billy looks at him, and _oh_.

The boy hisses, trying to get at least a bit comfortable, and obviously failing spectacularly. His ears are fucking tomato red.

Billy refuses to pity him. The little shit got what he deserved - but then Harrington sniffs, wincing - and screw that.

"Here," Billy nods to the backseat. "We can stop so you climb in there and lay on your stomach..."

Harrington flashes crimson red and okay, this option is _clearly_ out of the list.

"...or grab a blanket from there. Y'know, put it under your..."

"Thanks," Harrington interrupts him, reaching out to the backseat and taking the old blanket.

It's probably all dirty and smelly but Billy can bet the boy wouldn't mind it right now.

Harrington puts it under his ass, his face and ears still dark red. His eyes are trained on his soaked dirty Nikes, fingers playing with the hem of Billy's jean jacket.

There's no trace of his bratty attitude. How _interesting_. Harrington looks kinda stunned too, like he's got what he deserved for the first time in his life. Billy really doubts his parents have ever disciplined him though.

Speaking of them.

"Your folks aren't coming home in the morning, are they?" Billy watches the dark road in front of them.

Harrington's house must have some food in there. And some TV to watch mindlessly, cuddling this idiot of a boy on the couch. After the said boy takes a hot shower, of course. That's a solid plan.

Billy still doesn't understand when the plans like this became his jam, instead of some wild parties and shit. It _definitely_ has something to do with Harrington and his _stupid_ big eyes.

Harrington, who interrupts his thoughts with a scoff.

Yeah, right, his parents.

He looks at Billy as if the thought of his parents coming home is the most ridiculous thing ever. Which in some way it maybe is.

"Like they remember they have a home," Harrington looks in the window, shivering, and adds so quietly Billy almost misses it. "As well as a _son_."

Billy frowns, all tight-lipped. Truth is, there was a time he prayed for Neil to forget about his existence at all - Jesus, this thought _still_ crosses his mind sometimes - but no one should choose between being beaten and being neglected. Both options are shitty.

In some twisted way, they have more in common than one can think of.

He doesn't want Harrington to be all sad, though. Apparently that's why his brain-to-mouth filter fails him spectacularly.

"Don't sulk, pretty boy," he nudges Harrington in the ribs. "Got me now, yeah?"

The moment the words are out Billy's terrified of them. It's such a sappy crap, something from the horrible pop songs Max loves to listen.

He means _every single one of them_ though. And that's the problem, because hell knows what Harrington is gonna make out of it.

Billy darts a glance at him. Harrington watches him closely, open-mouthed, eyes even bigger than usually.

Shit.

Billy's ready to turn it all into a joke, but then Harrington's hand is on his own, making him flinch. _Jesus._ A warning would be nice.

"Yeah, I've got you now," he whispers, voice all stunned and hoarse, like he can't believe it himself. "And, like - _you've got me_, Billy. For real."

There's something big and serious in his tone, the unspoken promises, like _'I got your back'_, and _'I trust you'_, and _'you can trust me'_.

Billy really wants to answer with something warm and heartfelt.

"Stop squirming already," he grumbles. "Jesus."

Harrington seems to understand anyway. Maybe he can read through Billy's eyes now. This thought should be scary, but somehow it's not.

"It just _stings_, you shithead," Harrington pouts, trying to get more comfortable. No such luck.

Billy's sure it's gotta sting like hell now. He's got him _good_. Exactly what he _needed_ though.

He's also got a strong feeling it won't be the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What I'm saying, there are people who care about you, pretty boy," he looks at Harrington, who is frowning and downright pouting at him. Billy sighs, somehow happy to see this pout. "But. What I'm also saying, is they're just unable to handle you right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are some feelings.  
As in let's give Billy a tiny break (nah not really).  
Tell me how was it please?

The house is really big and really empty. Harrington obviously finds it intimidating to say the least, what with his fingers curling around Billy's wrist nervously when they step in.  
  
Billy can understand how lonely it must feel living here all by himself - but they are not alone now, they are _together_. No annoying parents, no one to tell them what to do, everything's under their own control.  
  
More like under _Billy's control_ though, because Harrington seems to be more than willing to give it up. Billy's more than happy to oblige, so.  
  
So he turns all the lights and the TV on, trying to fill the house with as much life as he can.  
  
Harrington is shifting from foot to foot, glancing at him from under his lashes unsurely.  
  
"Now gimme my jacket and go shower," Billy tells him firmly.  
  
Something flickers in Harrington's eyes, and he's quick to look at his feet - but Billy catches how his face falls for a tiny, _tiny_ moment.  
  
"Oh, okay, cool," he starts unbuttoning the jacket, and when he looks at Billy there's a small fake smile plastered on his face. Billy _hates_ it. "Thanks for, y'know..."  
  
"Jesus," Billy shuts him up, whacking him on the head lightly. "M' not going anywhere, dumbass."  
  
Harrington looks puzzled.  
"But you said..."  
  
"My cigs are in here," Billy reaches out to him and fishes the pack out of the pocket. "Gonna smoke in your backyard while you're warming up."  
  
Harrington blinks, mouth opened, and then the _real_ smile curls the corners of his lips.  
_"Oh."_  
  
Billy rolls his eyes, hiding that weird warm feeling blooming in his chest.  
  
"Go to the fucking shower," he tells Harrington one more time, growing impatient. "Take a hot one. Put on something warm and come back here. _And don't make me repeat myself, pretty boy._"  
  
Harrington gulps, eyes wide, and jogs upstairs so fast he nearly falls.  
  
Billy shakes his head. This boy. He remembers that small fake smile and almost crumples the pack in his fist.  
  
When the fuck did Harrington start to smile when he's hurt, to pull a daredevil when he's terrified and to act out stubbornly when all he obviously needs is someone to take care of him?  
  
Billy doesn't tolerate this kind of bullshit.  
Not on his watch.  
  
***  
  
The pool looks calm, almost serene under the lights. Billy looks at the electrifying neon blue water, exhaling the smoke and shivering in the night's chilly air.  
  
To him it looks tempting, almost mouthwatering with the only thought of a midnight swim under the stars. Especially skinny dipping, especially with _one certain boy_ by his side.  
  
To Billy it's hard to think of the girl dying there. But he didn't witness it, wasn't around back then. Hell, he doesn't even know _how_ that happened.  
  
He's not particularly _proud_ of this thought, but he can't help but feels grateful that it wasn't _Harrington_ who got caught here.  
  
Harrington probably sees the monster every fucking time he looks at the water.  
  
Billy glances at the woods nearby, at the huge and silent house.  
  
He thinks how Harrington spends every night here, all alone, remembering and questioning himself if the monsters are still here, if they harm him, if someone comes to the rescue...  
  
"Fell here last week," Billy drops his cigarette into the pool, startled by the voice from the behind.  
  
So sometimes this asshole actually _is_ stealthy like a ninja after all.  
  
He doesn't bother taking the cig out of the water, watching the boy approaching him.  
  
Harrington's changed into some worn-out joggers and a hoodie, and Billy's never seen him this soft.  
  
He doubts _anyone's_ seen him like that. He kinda likes it.  
  
"Skinned my knee, so, like, there was _blood_," Harrington tugs Billy at his hand, making him step further from the water. Billy _lets_ him. "Monster sensed her blood, y'know? Barb's. She's cut her hand that night."  
  
His voice's reduced to a whisper, hoarse and painful. Billy fights the urge to fucking scoop him up.  
  
"And I _know_ there's no monster anymore, okay," Harrington doesn't sound so sure though. "But, like... I freaked out so much I locked myself in my bathroom and was scared to get out for almost an hour. I could bet I heard all those..._sounds_. Y'know, the _specific_ ones."  
  
Billy doesn't know, thanks God. And he doesn't want _Harrington_ to know. But it's a little bit late for that. Not too late to protect him now, though.  
  
"S' okay," he touches his cheek, the skin's soft and hot. "S' okay to be scared."  
  
"But I don't wanna, Billy," Harrington's voice sounds pleading. "Don't wanna be scared anymore."  
  
And damn, does Billy understand that.  
  
"Okay," he agrees carefully, still caressing his cheek. "We'll kick your fears' asses then. Together."  
  
Harrington's doe eyes are wide and so vulnerable it's too much to bear.  
  
"Only if you fucking feed me right now," Billy grumbles, smacking him on the shoulder. "What kind of a host are you, pretty boy, were you raised by wolves?"  
  
Harrington's face gets all lit up with his wide genuine smile.  
  
"We got pizza and, like, whatever we can find in the fridge," his laugh is so contagious Billy finds himself smirking as well.  
  
Only until Harrington's laugh suddenly turns into a nasty cough, making him double over. That's when Billy realizes the boy's cheek was really _too_ hot to the touch.  
  
Shit.

***

"Your folks are so rich, but you don't even have anything for the _fucking cold_ at home?!"

  
Billy cannot believe it. Harrington squirms on the couch, biting his lip and looking all guilty.  
  
Billy has _a lot_ to say about his stupid stunt at the quarry, getting all soaked up and parading like that out in the cold, but it can wait until he's feeling better.  
  
Harrington has been fucking coughing non-stop since they got inside. His forehead is scalding hot to the touch too.  
  
He doesn't even eat _pizza_, which is the sure sign of the worst fever in Billy's opinion.  
  
And of fucking course he's stubborn enough to refuse to go to the doc's.  
  
The little shit obviously knows how to trick Billy into complying though, because _'no please, no docs, I only want you, Billy'_ and those fucking big puppy eyes, and Billy has no heart for making him.  
  
He becomes too fucking soft for his own good.  
  
"S' just nothing," Harrington assures him while coughing up a lung. "Give it a second. It'll go away."  
  
"Yeah, _sure_," Billy scoffs and goes on a quest to the kitchen.  
  
He comes back to the boy curled up miserably on the living room's posh couch and brings him a mug of hot milk with some honey and butter.  
  
It's what his mom used to give him when he was sick. It even smells like Billy's childhood, a short one, when everything was calm and simple.  
  
"Here," he gives Harrington the milk. "Drink up."  
  
And that's when the bastard decides to be difficult.  
  
"Nah, don't wanna."  
  
"You need to drink something warm," Billy's patience is wearing _fucking thin_.  
  
"Gross," Harrington makes a face, scrunching his nose. "M' not a baby! Got dad's full bar if you wanna warm up, but..."  
  
Billy doesn't let him finish. He simply sets the mug on the coffee table, grabs the alarmed boy by the collar of his hoodie, making him stand up, and delivers a few razor-sharp swats to his sore ass.  
  
"Are you done being a brat or should we continue?"  
  
Harrington yelps and jumps.  
  
"Okay, alright, where's that milk you were saying?!"  
  
"That's what I thought." Billy lets his collar go and watches the boy immediately reaching out to the mug and drinking, almost burning his mouth.  
  
The doe eyes are wide - but he's not _real_ scared. _He's not scared of Billy._  
The realization makes him feel all warm and light.

***

  
  
Billy actually finds a little bottle with some weird-ass medicine in one of the kitchen's cabinets, dark brown liquid with a _horrible_ smell and no doubt even _more horrible_ taste. But it does say on the label that it must help.  
  
"No way," Harrington whines, eyeing the bottle cautiously. "The doc gave it to me last time I was sick. It's probably expired anyway!"  
  
He looks so hopeful Billy can't help but snorts.  
  
"Sorry, pretty boy. It's good until next year," he frowns in realizing. "Wait, so _you_ _knew_ there are meds in the house, huh?"  
  
Harrington doesn't look him in the eye, suddenly finding the carpet extremely fascinating.  
  
"I, uh, I forgot?"  
  
Billy considers punishing him for that lie, but he really doesn't want to go overboard. Also, the boy looks so miserable it's probably better to go soft on him right now.  
  
"We'll have a little chat about working on your memory skills later," he does give Harrington the unimpressed look, though, and pours the medicine in the spoon. "Now, be a _good boy_ for me and drink up."  
  
These exact words do _something_ to Harrington.  
  
He goes all pink, swallowing hard and almost tripping over his own feet.  
  
Hell, it does something to Billy too, that's for sure.  
  
Because Harrington takes the spoon and drinks the disgusting shit without any protests, only scrunching his nose, big eyes never leaving Billy's.  
  
It's like he _needs_ to be good so desperately. Be a good boy like _Billy_ told him.  
  
Billy watches him drinking, nodding approvingly, and cards his fingers through his damp soft hair. Shit, the guy's reputation is well-earned, Billy's never touched such a silky mane before.  
  
Harrington almost purrs in delight, eyes becoming happy slits. Billy chuckles. Seems like he's mastering the art of handling the boy right.  
  
This thought brings him some new feeling of inner peace.

***

He would've thought Harrington's room is all neat and clean and posh, but it's nothing like that.  
  
It's all messy and boyish, with worn jeans and tshirts hanging from the bed frame and chairs, pile of records stacked next to his bed, some chocolate snacks laying on top of them, and a basketball left on the floor. Billy trips over it, cursing.  
  
There're even a couple of toy cars on his shelves. Billy wonders if he's gonna find an old teddy bear hidden in the closet or under the bed. Harrington seems like the type. He smirks, deciding to definitely explore this question in the morning.  
  
That's not the question at hand right now.  
  
"So bright," Harrington looks in the window, his head tipped back. He's shirtless. His skin gleams beautifully in the moonlight. "The stars, they are just something else."  
  
He looks back at Billy, yawning and rubbing his eyes.  
  
_Impossible._  
  
"When I was a kid I believed there're people on the stars too, and like, they're watching me as I was watching them," Harrington gives him a shy smile. "So I waved at them. Waved at the _stars_, thinking it would be nice to, y'know, greet them. So dumb, right? Those people wouldn't even _see_ it."  
  
Billy shakes his head in disbelief. How's he even supposed to deal with this?  
  
He can't even stop the overwhelmingly warm feeling in his chest anymore.  
  
"I think the kid-you was way smarter than this grown ass version," he grumbles, trying not to sound too fondly. "I seriously doubt that sweet child would pull all these stunts, getting himself sick and giving me a fucking heart attack."  
  
"That sweet child was the nightmare of all the parents in the neighborhood," Harrington seems to be quiet proud of this announcement. "Also you're not having a heart attack."  
  
"Jesus, pretty boy, who would've thought you act like you're high or drunk when sick," Billy chuckles softly. "Get in the bed already."  
  
They end up in one bed - not that it's _Billy's_ idea, it's just Harrington being pretty sick, and also clingy as fuck (who knew, duh), and his room is also the only cozy space in this huge mansion, and, well, Billy's also really, _really_ on board with this whole one bed scenario.  
  
They just lay together, though, like two kids having a sleepover. Billy's whole body is _itching_ with the want to touch, but he's already made the first move, back then when he kissed Harrington. He supposes it's not his turn now.  
  
The room is coated in the dark blue shadows, the moon glancing at them through the window, sprinkling pale silver dust everywhere.  
  
They face each other, Harrington's hot breath on Billy's face, his eyes feverish and hazy.  
  
"It feels nice," his voice sounds hoarse and dazed. "So warm. Usually need two blankets so I'm not freezing in my sleep. But now it's so warm with you."  
  
Billy feels his breath caught in his throat. It's probably just the fever talking.  
  
"It's not cause I'm sick, y'know." Harrington apparently can also read minds now. "I'm just too tired of...of _not-telling_," he sighs and coughs, covering his mouth with his palm. "Sorry."  
  
Billy's heart's so loud it's probably being heard all the way in Cali.  
  
He wants to tell Harrington how he's warm with him too, how sometimes it seems he can breath properly only near him, how his chest feels lighter and, well, happier. How he's _free_ right now.  
  
"Y'know, your gang of snotty weirdos would probably kill for you," he finds himself saying instead. "Like, real kill. And Joyce goes all mamma-bear-mode whenever she sees you. Like you're five or something."  
  
Harrington scowls. It's endearing.  
  
"And when you hangout with Wheeler and Byers it's sometimes like they play house with you as their pretty baby, what with all those protective stares."  
  
And Billy definitely does _not_ feel a spark of jealousy at that. _Never_. Harrington scowls even more though. That's _nice_.  
  
It seems like he wants to say something, so Billy silences him, pressing a palm to his mouth. Harrington's lips are chapped and hot, and the bastard chooses this exact moment to fucking _lick_ them. Billy groans, electricity shooting through his body.  
  
"What I'm saying, there are people who care about you, pretty boy," he looks at Harrington, who is frowning and downright pouting at him. Billy sighs, somehow happy to see this pout. "But. What I'm _also_ saying, is they're just unable to _handle you right_."  
  
There's silence, only their breathing and Billy's loud as hell heartbeat.  
  
"But you are," Harrington breathes out, voice husky and vulnerable. "Yeah?"  
  
"You tell me," Billy fixes him with a stare. "_Am I?_"  
  
It's dark, but he still sees the flush spreading on Harrington's cheeks.  
  
"Yeah," he barely whispers. "Yes_ you are._"  
  
It sounds awfully like a vow. And Billy has no idea when he's become so mushy. Must be Harrington's sappiness rubbing off on him.  
  
He clears his throat, trying to calm his wild heart the fuck down.  
  
"The Chief comes close, though," he just _needs_ something to lighten the atmosphere in the room. The dark blue air's so thick you can cut it. "I swear he almost gave your ass what it deserved at the pool tonight."  
  
"You gotta be shitting me," Harrington fucking snickers nervously.  
  
"Try mouthing him off one more time and test it," Billy chuckles, remembering Hopper's death glare.  
  
Harrington suddenly gives him a little cheeky smirk.  
  
"Nah. You wouldn't let him."  
  
Billy just stares. The nerve. The bastard looks so smug Billy cannot believe his own eyes. It's kinda cute. Doesn't mean he's gonna encourage it though.  
  
"Well, try and risk it, pretty boy," he shrugs, all nonchalance. "One thing you can count on, though. Remember my _belt_?"  
  
Harrington freezes and coughs, all smugness wiped out.  
Good.  
  
Billy raises his brows, waiting for an answer.  
  
"Y-yeah?" the boy stutters, gulping.  
  
His eyes dart to Billy's folded clothes, more specifically to his jeans with the black leather belt.  
  
"So," Billy keeps the nonchalant tone up, pointing at the belt, then at himself and at Harrington. "You act out like before - and all three of us are gonna have a nice little chat. Are we clear?"  
  
He reaches out and taps Harrington's ass. It's just a light touch, but it has the boy choking on his own breath.  
  
"I asked you a question, Stevie boy."  
  
Harrington seems to struggle with words, but coughs out, nodding.  
  
"I-I, yeah."  
  
"I know how to handle you," Billy promises him. "So don't think I'm gonna hesitate to deliver some _tough love_."  
  
Harrington's tomato red now.  
  
"Wouldn't want you to hesitate," his mumbling is barely audible, but Billy catches it and stores away carefully.  
  
"Good," he gives the boy a warm smile, carding his fingers through his mop of hair once again, scratching and pulling a bit.  
  
Harrington just melts into his touch, eyes blissfully shut. Must be a thing for him.  
  
"But if I'm - if I'm _good_," he whispers suddenly, swallowing, voice obviously strained, making Billy frown. "You're, like, keeping me then? Like as...like as _yours_?"  
  
Now it's Billy who's choking. Harrington looks down, hiding his stupid doe eyes, all tense and definitely, definitely terrified of Billy's answer.  
  
Billy has no idea if it's the fever, the meds kicking in, the nerve wracking night or maybe just the tiredness of the uncertainty - but something surely pushed the boy to the point of this... Sincerity? Bravery? Desperation?  
  
Seems like there _were_ secrets Billy had no idea about, after all. Just the other kind. Huh.  
  
He wonders what would've happened if Harrington didn't start acting out. If Billy wasn't so pissed at his bratty attitude. If Joyce didn't point out the obvious.  
  
He'd probably still be pining, touching the boy like this only in his dreams, and having no fucking idea...  
  
He watches Harrington's trembling lashes, so long they cast shadows on his cheeks. He looks so _awfully_ innocent Billy's chest constricts.  
  
He lifts Harrington's chin up. When the boy finally looks at him, there's everything in his eyes.  
  
The fragile innocence that makes Billy crave to protect him, and the bratty stubbornness that drives him crazy, and the fire that's always fascinated him since day one.  
  
There's something else, though. Like Harrington's readying himself for a hit to take. Not for a slap on the ass. More like for Billy to _really_ hurt him, not even physically.  
  
Preparing himself to swallow the pain from Billy's rejection and act like it's nothing.  
  
Billy doesn't like it a single bit.  
  
"Listen to me," he's fucking scared. He's scared to hell, but he also needs, just _needs_ to be as sincere and brave as the boy near him was. "If you - if you want it as much as me. Cause I _do_ want it, shit, you stupid ass, you have zero idea how I - _fuck_."  
  
He swallows hard, the room suddenly so hot it's suffocating.  
  
"And you - you don't have to be _good_ for that. I mean, it's nice when you're fucking listening to me and not doing anything stupid. But I might as well _make_ you behave, yeah? S' still nice. Cause, like," he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, gathering all his courage. "_You are mine already, Steve._ Always, bratty or obedient. Doesn't matter. Just - if you _want_..."  
  
His monologue is cut off rudely with Harrington's hot lips pressing to his own.  
  
There's nothing soft about it, all rough and bruising and scratching, but it's somehow so _unbearably gentle_ Billy's chest hurts.  
  
His head is actually spinning, and here he thought it was just some made-up shit for romantic dumbasses.  
  
He's sure his lips are going to be all swollen, and Harrington's even more, and Billy pulls his hair hard, making the boy whine and hold on to him with such force he's definitely leaving bruises.  
  
They break the kiss only in a desperate need of breathing.  
  
"You're so dumb," Harrington breathes out, panting, and licks a wide stripe on Billy's collarbone.  
  
"Careful, pretty boy," Billy tries to sound menacing but he's not so sure he succeeds at all. "Still can kick your ass."  
  
Harrington takes it as a sign to bite the wet skin he just licked, making Billy fucking moan, then looks up at him all innocently.  
  
Such a _brat_.  
  
"If you still need the verbal confirmation, " Harrington bites his lower lip, smile curling the corners of his mouth. "I _do_ want it. Shithead."  
  
Billy just tugs him closer, holding still and listening to his heartbeat - as loud and wild as his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I guess I really want to get in trouble for writing this instead of doing some responsible stuff sooo...😅  
⚠️A question!⚠️  
Thinking about Steve acting out more.  
How do we feel about it?


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harrington's a strong boy. No wonder he's this stubborn and disobedient to the point of frustration sometimes. Well, most of the time.  
But Billy saw his eyes. He saw this look of total despair. The boy's stubbornness doesn't deceive him. He knows perfectly well what this fire is about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the bigger chapter makes up for the delay:)
> 
> Also I just want to thank you guys. Everyone who's commenting and leaving kudos and reading it.  
I'm just really so happy I can actually talk about it with you and it feels so nice to not be alone in it.  
You truly make my day every single time.  
So, thank you.  
❤

Billy wakes up to the sun beaming through the window, heavenly smell of food filling the air, and empty spot in the bed next to him. He frowns, rubbing his eyes and taking in his surroundings.  
  
It's actually the fourth time of him waking up.  
  
The first one's not long after they drifted off to sleep. Billy doesn't remember what he dreams about when a soft voice calls his name. He wakes up with a start, blinking and panting.  
  
"Harrington?"  
  
The boy's not in the bed. After a second Billy spots him in the doorway.  
  
"The fuck you're doing there?" his voice is raspy from sleep.  
  
"I couldn't see if you're really here," Harrington whispers, sounding relieved. "S' just so dark. So I called you, ugh, sorry to wake you up."  
  
"Don't be," Billy tells him quickly, climbing off the bed and finding the boy's hand. "Still doesn't explain the hell you're doing outta here?"  
  
He drags him back in the bed, settling both of them under the blanket.  
  
"I just needed to use the bathroom," Harrington sounds like he's rolling his eyes, as if it's not him who got scared of the dark in the end.  
  
Billy doesn't tell him that though. He wraps his arms around the boy, holding him close.  
  
"M' here, you're safe. We're safe. Let's fucking sleep."  
  
Harrington sighs, somehow comforted by Billy's words, and relaxes in his arms, falling asleep in seconds.  
  
The second time Billy wakes up is because of stupid Harrington kicking the blanket off, making Billy fucking freeze.  
  
When he tries to put it back the boy kicks again and groans something about it being _'almost hotter than Billy himself'_.  
  
Which is, thanks for the compliment, but the room is actually kinda chilly?  
  
"Sleep. Now," Billy orders, nudging him and putting the blanket back in place.  
  
Harrington immediately does as he's told without any attempts to protest anymore.  
  
The third time is around the dawn, fresh breeze and pearly mist creeping through the window.  
  
Billy has no idea what wakes him up, probably some _goddamn_ birds that clearly think it's okay to start their stupid chirping in this hour.  
  
He turns around and immediately feels kinda grateful to these birds. Harrington's curled up next to him with his both hands tucked under his cheek.  
  
He looks so carefree and young, fluffy hair falling on his forehead, lips slightly parted, not a worry in the world.  
  
Billy's heart performs some weird-ass acrobatics in his chest, and he doesn't even think what he's doing when his hand caresses Harrington's cheek.  
  
The boy suddenly catches his hand in his own, nearly giving Billy a heart attack.  
  
He's ready to calm him down, to tell him it's not the monster or something, but turns out Harrington doesn't think about monsters at all. He doesn't even wake up.  
  
Instead of being startled he cradles Billy's arm as if it's a teddy bear, cuddling with it and sighing happily. Billy just stares at him.  
  
He falls asleep with his arm still trapped in Harrington's embrace. It feels nicer than Billy would _ever_ admit.  
  
So it's the _fourth_ time of Billy waking up now, and Harrington's nowhere to be seen. He gets up, puts his jeans on and rummages through the boy's closet, fishing out a tshirt he can borrow.  
  
"Harrington!" he hollers and comes downstairs, somehow feeling at ease in this huge pretentious house.  
  
He hears coughing from the kitchen. The sweet smell comes from there too. Billy's stomach growls.  
  
"I smell food," he declares, stepping into the kitchen. "If it's just some fancy air freshener, I swear to God..."  
  
Harrington looks at him from the kitchen counter, clad only in his basketball shorts riding low on his hips. He tilts his head to the side, mop of brown hair messy and fluffy, so that the boy resembles a puppy even more than usual, and Billy can't help but grin looking at him.  
  
Everything's drowning in sunshine and smells of chocolate and vanilla.  
  
"I made us pancakes," Harrington's voice is all hoarse from coughing, and if he thinks the plate full of fluffy pancakes is going to distract Billy from him being sick he's in for a big surprise.  
  
"Wooing me with your mad culinary skills, huh, pretty boy?" Billy steals one pancake from the stack and shoves the whole thing in his mouth at once. "Shit, these are _insane_!"  
  
He's wolfing it down, making Harrington roll his eyes and snort. He does look pleased though.  
  
"We're out of syrup," the boy gives him a sheepish smile. "But we got this."  
  
Harrington reaches out to the counter behind him and shows Billy the Nutella jar.  
  
Billy's almost waiting for Max to appear out of thin air. She doesn't.  
  
"Jesus, and no annoying sisters to gobble it up, am I dreaming?"  
  
Harrington snickers and coughs hoarsely.  
  
"Max can get pretty territorial," Billy distracts him with talking while touching his forehead.

It's slightly better than it was but still too hot.  
Shit.  
  
"S' _chocolate_. I can get pretty territorial too," the boy promises him, leaning into the touch.  
  
"Oh really?" Billy smiles. "I think I can handle you. C'mon, I'm fucking starving."  
  
It's when they are getting seated he says in a casual manner.  
  
"We're taking my car."  
  
"Um, to where exactly?" Harrington looks up from his pancake warily.  
  
"To the docs, pretty boy."  
  
"What?!"  
  
Billy fixes him with a stare.  
"No arguing. You're fucking burning up, so shove your back talk where the sun don't shine."  
  
Harrington gives him a defiant look.  
  
Jesus, it's too early for this shit.  
Billy sighs, stuffing his mouth with pancakes and Nutella.  
  
"I'm not going."  
  
"Look, I really don't want to punish you when you're sick," Harrington's face gets all red so quick it's kinda fascinating, but Billy needs to get his point across. "But if it's the only way to drag your ass to the docs I'll fucking do it."  
  
"No way!" Harrington squirms on his spot, eyes darting around nervously.  
  
Billy takes a deep breath, counting backwards from ten. God help him.  
  
Apparently his prayers are heard, because the doorbell rings.  
  
Both of them drop their pancakes, sharing a confused look.  
  
"Your folks?" Billy almost jumps in his seat.  
"They got keys, dumbass," Harrington scoffs and makes a beeline to the door.  
  
_Someone_ needs to learn his _fucking manners_.  
Seems like that certain someone knows it too, because he's basically running to the doors, saving his ass from a well deserved slap.  
  
Billy chuckles, gobbling up his pancakes - and some of Harrington's too - and perks up his ears. He really hopes it's not one of Harrington's nerdy gremlins.  
  
"Hi honey," he hears sweet familiar voice and gets up, smiling. "I saw Billy's car on your driveway, the kids want to go on a picnic and Max was calling home but no one answered and... Steve? Are you feeling all right?"  
  
Billy enters the hallway at the time when Harrington's obviously trying to come up with some filthy lies.  
  
Joyce pecks Billy on the cheek.  
  
"He's not. He's sick as a dog!" Billy rats out Harrington and doesn't regret it one single bit.  
  
Joyce gasps. _Fucking yes._ Billy's got a backup now.  
  
Harrington's pouting at him.  
  
"But that's horrible! I knew it, I just knew it. Oh, honey, you should really get to the hospital."  
  
"M' trying to make him," Billy tells her earnestly. "But he's fighting me on this."  
  
"I don't need to go!" Harrington sounds like a spoiled brat he is.  
  
Joyce isn't paying it any attention though. That's probably some mom-superpower.  
  
"Nonsense, sweetheart, we're going right now," she waves him off.  
  
"But..."  
  
"Go put your shirt on, please."  
  
"But..."  
  
"_Steve!_" Billy cuts in with a wolf smile, which he knows is full of teeth. "You sure you really want to have this argument right here and right now, _sweetheart_?"  
  
He hopes Harrington gets his 'I won't hesitate to deliver _right here and right now_' message.  
  
The boy gulps and turns red.  
"Fine," he spits out, turning on his heel.  
  
"You got five minutes at the most," Billy tells him, smiling. "If you're not here by then, I'm coming upstairs."  
  
_'And things turn ugly'_ remains unspoken.  
  
Harrington shoots him a glare and goes upstairs.  
Billy shakes his head.  
  
"He's lucky he got you, you know, sweetie," Joyce is watching them with amused smile.  
  
Now it's Billy's turn to blush.  
  
"Aw," he tries to wave it off, but Joyce pulls him in a hug, and he kinda relaxes into it, carefully holding her elflike shoulders.  
  
"Come on," he nods to the kitchen. "Did you know he can make _really_ awesome pancakes?"

***

Harrington sulks during the whole ride, but the moment they step into the hospital he's glued to Billy's side.  
  
"I don't like how it smells here," he tells him in a whisper.  
  
"Yeah," Billy agrees, scrunching his nose. "So thank you for cooperating."  
  
He puts his arm around the boy's shoulders protectively. The way Harrington immediately clings to him, so open and _overwhelmingly trusting_, makes Billy's heart flutter. He tightens his grip on him. The boy needs to know he's safe with Billy, no matter what.  
  
They have to wait, of fucking course.  
  
Joyce has to leave for work, so she tells them to pop in later and tell her how's it going.  
  
Then she makes Harrington promise to _'listen to Billy'_, quickly dismissing his stubborn attempts to protest. And that's why he loves this woman so much. Well, at least one of the reasons.  
  
"Okay," he mumbles, huffing. "I promise to listen to him, Joyce. I promise."  
  
Billy's not even _trying_ to hide his smugness.

***

Billy is bored. He keeps staring at the door, like he's going to open it with his mind or whatever. El would definitely be able to do it. The Chief wouldn't approve of it though. Sometimes he _really_ needs to let loose.  
  
Everything smells of meds and Billy craves for some fresh air so much he almost feels that he's sick too.  
  
Harrington's still at the doc's and it's been an _eternity_ now and Billy's fucking _bored_ to the point he almost wishes for Max or one of the other gremlins to be here with him. That way he could at least tease someone.  
  
It would be a lie to say there's no entertainment at all. There are some women walking the halls, smiling and batting their eyes at him.  
  
Yeah. Little do they know is that all Billy's able to think about is a doe-eyed bratty boy behind the goddamn door.  
  
Just as another woman's approaching him, obviously ready to ask some stupid question and make small talk, the door swings open.  
  
Billy jumps up, facing the doc and the nurse. Both look pretty annoyed.  
_Uh-huh._ That can't be good.  
  
"I give up," the doc looks at Billy as if he personally offended him. "We have to give this boy a shot. But he refuses to cooperate."  
  
Of fucking course. Well, who would've like it.  
  
"S' necessary?"  
  
"Absolutely. He'll be just fine in a couple of days this way. There's a big risk of developing a pneumonia otherwise," the doc's literally fuming. "Never once in my career I experienced _such disrespect_ from a teenage boy."  
  
The nurse nods furiously.  
  
Billy sighs. Their scandalized faces are giving him a headache. And in all honesty they both kinda look like douchebags in his opinion.  
  
"I'd also like to know what his mother thinks of that foul mouth," the nurse tells him with a pursed lip. "What do they even teach you kids at school nowadays."  
  
_Jesus._ Billy fights the urge to roll his eyes and does his best to give her his charming smile.  
  
"Okay, can you give us a minute? Please?"  
  
The nurse goes all pink.  
  
"The boy's not a baby anymore, " the doc grumbles. "He better _man up_."  
  
Billy was right. A _douchebag_ indeed. He strongly reminds him of Neil, even sports the same mustache.  
  
"Hey," Billy shoots him a dangerous glare. "Let's talk about _respect_, shall we, doc?"  
  
The doc looks scandalized, but the nurse cuts in, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
"I could use some coffee right now, what about you?" she asks the doc, flashing Billy a small smile.  
  
"Alright, talk to your friend," the doc barks. "But make it quick. I don't have time for coddling rude teenagers."  
  
He marches away, the nurse tagging along. Billy lets out a heavy sigh, wanting to just flip them off.  
  
He's kinda angry at all of them. At the doc for being such a douchebag and at Harrington for being difficult. It's probably wrong, but he's tired as hell.  
  
He swings the door open, entering the room.  
  
Harrington sits there, glaring at the opening door, ready to argue, but the moment he sees it's Billy he lowers his eyes. All the fight is gone in a moment.  
  
"Are you mad?" his voice is small.  
  
Billy really wants to snarl, that _yes_, he fucking is, maybe give him a _fucking break_ \- but then he sees Harrington's hunched shoulders, and all the anger just kinda evaporates from him.  
  
"No," he sighs. "M' worried."  
  
"I know it's stupid," he still doesn't look at him, fingers playing with the hem of his shorts. "Don't wanna give you a hard time."  
  
"No one likes needles," Billy tilts his head, sitting near Harrington. "Y'know, I was bitten by a stray cat once. They wanted to give me a shot at the hospital. So naturally I ran the fuck away."  
  
"Really?" Harrington's eyes light up as he risks a glance at Billy.  
  
"I swear," Billy nods.  
  
He's _not_ telling him he was ten at the time. He's _also_ not telling him how Neil fucking _dragged_ him back to the hospital, not even for the sake of his health, just for him to _man up_.  
  
Yeah. He's stronger than Harrington. He can easily force him to take it. He's _not_ being like his father though.  
  
"S' just I want you to get fucking better, y'know?" he tries to talk him into it. "So we could have some fun. S' summer, right? So you could come to the pool and annoy me as always."  
  
"Gonna annoy you more now," seems like someone's really on board with this idea.  
Little shit.  
  
"Yeah, no, not until you're better," Billy gives him a look.  
  
Harrington bites his lip, deep in thought.  
Billy lets him have his time. He's probably won already anyway.  
  
"The doc's a dickhead though," the boy tells him, sighing and pouting.  
Billy does _not_ find it adorable.  
  
"Want me to punch him?"  
  
"What? No! _Oh my God!_"  
  
"I could," Billy assures him, winking.  
  
"And they say chivalry is dead," Harrington's rolling his eyes.  
  
He hesitates for a moment, ears turning pink. _Ah_, something _interesting_ is coming.  
  
"If I _hypothetically_ took this fucking shot," Harrington glances at Billy, biting his lower lip. "Would I be, like, _good_ then?"  
  
Billy tries his hardest to stifle a massive shit-eating grin.  
  
"Hmm. Would you make me more pancakes when you're feeling better?" he can't help but teases the boy.  
  
"Would you be such an asshole?" well, they just fit together.  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
"The chocolate ones?" Harrington smiles at him, and Billy ruffles his hair, laughing.  
  
"So, would my _good boy_ be brave so we can leave this shit hole?"  
  
"Okay," Harrington makes a dramatic show of fixing his hair and sighing heavily.  
  
Billy still catches his blush and pleased smile though.  
  
"Get that ass ready for a shot then, I'll call Dr. Dickhead," Billy winks at him.  
  
"What? Oh my God, _fuck off_, it's just in my arm," Harrington's ears are dark red.  
  
Billy thinks that's good. Not like he appreciates that old douchebag ogling his boy's ass.

He winces in sympathy though, this exact shot must hurt like a bitch.

***

Aside from it being painful, the shot was _such_ a good idea. Not only because it brings the fever down. It's just Harrington's all soft and well-behaved and adorably sleepy after.  
  
He snoozes through the whole ride back to his place, then drinks a mug of warm milk Billy offers him without arguing, and obediently climbs into his bed, yawning.  
  
"Take a nap," Billy smiles at him, mussing up his hair, unable to stifle weird fondness in his chest. "I'll run some errands and come back to you. Deal?"  
  
Dr. Dickhead told them Harrington's going to sleep all day. They spent most of it at the fucking hospital already.  
  
No wonder the boy's so exhausted. The shit's got pretty eventful lately, Billy could use a nap himself, and he's not the one coughing nonstop since last night.  
  
"Will you be, like, _real_ speedy?" Harrington furrows his brows.  
  
"You won't even notice," Billy pushes him down so he lays on the pillows. "Now, if you're awake before I'm back - stay in bed."  
  
"What if I need water or something?"  
  
"Jesus, don't be stupid, pretty boy," Billy rolls his eyes. "The water's on your nightstand, and go to the bathroom or kitchen or whatever if you need. Just don't go _outside_. Okay?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Harrington agrees easily, definitely having a little trouble staying awake. "Just come back already."

***

Billy manages to pop in at Joyce's work as he promised and to get a change of clothes at home and to catch up with Max, who he finds at _Wheelers'_ of all the places.  
  
Turns out she's not even planning on going home tonight, because _'the party's campaign at Mike's, it was planned two weeks ago, how come you don't remember, Billy?!'_  
  
Yeah, _sure_, he should've fucking written it in his imaginary planner.  
  
Perfect for him though.  
  
The house is a literal nightmare, with the whole gang of middle-schoolers yelling about their nerdy stuff, Mr. Wheeler watching TV so loud Billy didn't know it's even possible, Holly chatting to her dolls and Mrs. Wheeler baking something in the kitchen.  
  
He has no idea where's Nancy. Probably somewhere with Byers, saving herself from this horror. Billy can see why everyone says she's so smart. His _brain_ hurts from all this madness.  
  
"I was at mom's work," little Byers looks up at Billy, his eyes worried. "She said Steve's sick?"  
  
Everything becomes way louder after that. The gremlins talk - and they apparently don't know how to talk, they just _scream_ \- all at once. Mrs. Wheeler tries to ask him what's with Harrington. Mr. Wheeler turns the volume up.  
  
Billy's ready to bite someone's head off. His voice is hoarse when he _fucking finally_ manages to explain everything.  
  
Mrs. Wheeler gives him a container full of homemade cookies, for him and 'poor Steve'. Billy tries his best to shoot her his _just-grateful-not-charming_ smile, but her cheeks are still flushed.  
  
He takes the cookies anyway. You can't go wrong with homemade pastries. And these smell so nice he doubts Harrington's going to get his half. Maybe Billy's gonna leave him a couple. If he _behaves_.  
  
The little weirdos are going nuts, wanting to visit Harrington immediately.  
  
"No way in hell," Billy tells pouting Dustin. "He needs to get better, ya know."  
  
"He'll see _me_ and feels better in a moment!"  
  
The kid's very sure of himself, Billy gives him that.  
  
"Sorry to break it to ya, but your babysitter is off limits today," Billy's not sorry _at all_. "End of story."  
  
The kid glares at him from under his trucker hat, huffing, then turns back to his friends.  
  
All six gremlins gather in a circle and talk in hushed voices, seemingly plotting something.  
  
Billy doesn't like it.  
  
"Wait a second," Dustin finally tells him importantly, and the bunch runs away to Wheelers' basement.  
  
Billy fucking _waits_, feeling pretty dumb.  
  
"Here, take it," Dustin comes back pretty quickly, little Byers by his side and a battered walkie-talkie in hand. The rest of the gang stays in the basement.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Ugh..._a walkie_?!" the kid looks at him like he's the dumbest creature ever.  
  
"I _see_ it," Billy hisses.  
  
How Harrington even puts up with them?!  
  
"It's a spare one. It's old and sounds kinda funny at times, but it works," Dustin explains patiently. "Give it to Steve so we can always talk to him."  
  
"Not happening."  
  
The kid squints at him.  
"You could also talk to him any time when you're at home or summat," the sly little fox knows exactly which buttons to push. "Imagine, you wouldn't even need to use a phone, how cool is that?!"  
  
"One tiny detail, gremlin. I'd need a walkie in this case too."  
  
"Well, you could borrow Max's sometimes," Dustin just shrugs. "And I'm not a gremlin!"  
  
"This isn't for free!" Max hollers from the basement.  
  
Billy rolls his eyes, yanking the walkie-talkie from Dustin's hands.  
  
"Okay, _gremlin_. Now get lost."  
  
He's on his way out, munching on a cookie and not paying attention to the kid's scandalized 'not a gremlin' yell when little Byers touches his hand.  
  
"Yeah?" Billy kinda _maybe_ has a soft spot for him. He's not as loud and annoying and horrible as the others.  
  
"Is Steve, like, real ill?" his huge eyes are concerned.  
  
Billy takes pity on him.  
"Nah, just was stupid and caught a cold. Gonna be okay in no time."  
  
"Oh, cool," the kid smiles in relief, then looks at Billy, chewing on his lips. "Mom says you two are so good for each other."  
  
Billy _chokes_ on the damn cookie, face going beet red.  
  
"I overheard her and Hop talking about it," little Byers explains quickly. "But I think so too."  
  
"Yeah?" Billy doesn't even know what to say anymore.  
Everyone seems trying to _fucking kill_ him lately.  
  
"Yeah, you look _real happy_," the kid tells him with a heartfelt smile. "So please, take care of him. He _promised_ me to play with water guns at the pool. No one else wanted to play with me. Everyone says it's just for kids, but Steve said it's _fun_! Can't really play when sick at home, right?"

He looks so proud that Harrington supported his idea.  
  
"Right. Okay," Billy nods dumbly, not even registering what comes out of his mouth.  
  
Little Byers is on his way to the basement when Billy suddenly gets the last part.  
  
"Water guns at the _pool_? _On my watch?_ I think the hell _not_, kid!" he calls after him.  
  
The kid just giggles and waves him, clearly not giving a single shit about his disagreement.  
  
_Fucking Harrington._

***

It's that hazy twilight hour when Billy comes back to Harrington's. The air is painted in pink and violet, the pavement is still soaked in the day's warmth and the stars don't plan their appearance yet.  
  
Billy _loves_ this time of the day, sweet and fragile and beautiful as it is. Everything seems possible in the short hours like these.  
  
He wonders how Harrington feels. Hopefully he's better. Maybe they could have a nice evening, eat something, watch a movie or whatever, just enjoy each other's company. Billy's good with whatever calm and nice and Harrington-related.  
  
He didn't have the time to wrap his head around everything happening lately. The only thing he knows it's that when Harrington looks at him with those big trusting eyes he feels _things_ he didn't know he's even _capable_ of. That's it.  
  
He doesn't even notice at first there's someone's car in Harrington's driveway.  
  
Billy stresses about his parents coming home at first, but then understands that the car looks vaguely familiar.  
  
It all becomes clear when he hears the voices from the backyard.  
He goes there, frowning, ready to stop whatever shit's going on.  
  
When he sees it, he changes his mind though. Billy stops in his tracks around the corner, the perfect spot to see and not be seen.  
  
"So what, now you don't even want to see me, Steve? We were best friends, remember?" Tommy H. has a huge grin on his face, all mocking and stupid.  
  
His eyes don't smile though. They are pissed.  
  
Billy tells himself he would dart forward any minute in case he needs to step in. He's just curious what's this all about. So he watches Harrington.  
  
Because yeah, Harrington's standing there too, in the same shorts and tshirt he went to sleep, hair messy. So much for _staying the fuck inside_ as Billy told him.  
  
"Yeah, we _were_, at least I thought so," Harrington's tone is icy cold and his stare's the same. "Y'know the word _betrayal_, Tommy? Look it up, borrow a dictionary from a library."  
  
Billy can't help but chuckles, watching his boy.  
  
"Yup that's what _you_ did, sticking up for Wheeler and that freak, and then he what, banged her right in front of you, huh, Stevie?!" Tommy's grin looks more like a grimace now. "But maybe you _like_ it?"  
  
Billy hates the way he says 'Stevie', making it mocking instead of gentle. He would punch his freckled mug already. Seems that Harrington's starting to loose his chill too.  
  
"I didn't betray you, Tommy," he spits out, hands on hips. "You were just being a douchebag. _Still are._"  
  
"And you're just pathetic."  
  
"Yeah, that's why you're here, pissed about not being my friend anymore, right?" Harrington raises his voice and coughs immediately.  
  
Billy should really just end it. But he can't help but keeps looking at them.  
  
"You're telling me I'm a douchebag but everyone's okay with _Hargrove_?" Tommy's voice is soaked with jealousy. "As long as I remember _he's_ the one who's beaten you black and blue, not _me_?"  
  
Here we go. Billy tenses, watching Harrington's reaction. That's true, he did that, no matter how _ashamed_ he's of it.  
  
Harrington's eyes darken.  
  
"_Shut. The fuck. Up_," his voice sends chills down Billy's spine. "You don't know _shit_ about him. He's not like you. _Never_ was. Everyone grows, asshole, try it sometime?"  
  
Billy blinks, stunned. He'd never pegged Harrington as the dangerous one. But he _really_ wouldn't want to be in Tommy's shoes right now.  
  
A few seconds pass before he realizes that the boy's ready to fight _defending him_.  
  
_'You got me, Billy. For real.'_  
  
_Jesus._  
  
This thought apparently makes Billy zone out for a moment.  
  
"M' sick of this shit, Tommy, the fuck you want from me?!" Harrington's voice startles him.  
  
Yeah, the boy's _definitely_ not the patient one.  
  
Tommy's lips curl into a snarl.  
  
"Maybe I'm just feeling _generous_, Stevie boy. Offering you my company instead of all that _scum_ you're hanging out with..."  
  
_Bam._  
  
Billy doesn't have time to react when Harrington suddenly moves and _punches_ Tommy square on the jaw.  
  
Tommy falls on his ass.  
  
Billy _freezes_. It's honestly so easy to forget about _this_ part of the boy. The one that's King Steve, the one that owns a nailed bat and fights monsters and consists of _pure wild fire_.  
  
Billy likes the way his lean muscles move, the way his eyes light up and his lips part, the way his body gets ready for a fight.  
  
Harrington's a strong boy. No wonder he's this stubborn and disobedient to the point of frustration sometimes. Well, _most_ of the time.  
  
But Billy saw his _eyes_. He saw this look of _total despair_. The boy's stubbornness doesn't deceive him. He knows _perfectly_ well what this fire is about.  
  
He knows for a fact that _all_ Harrington's wild part _really_ craves is to be _tamed_ by someone strong and caring.  
  
And that's, that's _his job_ here.  
  
"The fuck!!!" Tommy scrambles to his feet, furious. "I'll fucking finish you!"  
  
"_Try me_," Harrington bites out at the same time as Billy steps in.  
  
"I think the _fuck not_, Tommy."  
  
The scene would be comical if it weren't for so much tension. Both boys' eyes get wide as sauces immediately, shocked and stunned and scared.  
  
Harrington _suddenly_ _remembers_ he's supposed to stay inside. The _'oh shit'_ in his eyes is so obvious Billy almost snorts.  
The boy's definitely not used to following the rules. Okay then. Billy will make sure to _teach_ him.  
  
Tommy just knows what _exactly_ Billy can do to him if he wants to. There's no way he can win this fight. There's no way he would even try to.  
  
Billy isn't planning on fighting though. Like Harrington said, he's outgrown it.  
  
"Billy," Harrington breathes out. "Uh, um."  
  
Very intelligent.  
  
"Go inside," Billy tells him, squinting at Tommy.  
  
"But..."  
  
"Get in the fucking house!" he grabs he boy's collar and pushes him towards the doors, trying his hardest not to lose it.  
  
Thanks God Harrington finally decides it's better to listen to him and does as he's told.  
  
The moment he's inside Billy lets out a loud breath and turns his attention to horrified Tommy.  
  
"Now, _you_."  
  
"_He_ started it!" Tommy hollers, face pale with fear. "You saw it! I didn't even _touch_ him!"  
  
Billy bets he was one of those kids on the playground who did mean things and framed the others for it.  
  
"Yeah, I saw and _heard_ everything," Billy gives him the shark smile, making the color drain from the guy's face completely.  
  
"B-b-billy, I..."  
  
"You leave Harrington _alone_, Tommy," he steps closer, eyes hard, making Tommy back away from him. "You stop stalking him, stop trying to talk to him, and _God forbid_ you lay a finger on him."  
  
Tommy almost trips over his own feet.  
  
"Because _I'll know_, Tommy. Whatever you try, I'll know. And _boy_ would you regret it. Am I clear?" his voice is low, but Tommy winces like it's booming in the backyard.  
  
"Yes," Tommy's not fighting him on it. Billy's on the top of this stupid teenage food chain, so he better not even try.  
  
"One more thing," he fixes him with a hard glare. "You leave _everyone_ the fuck alone. The kids, and Wheeler, and Byers and whoever else you're bullying."  
  
Tommy gapes at him.  
  
"Since when have you become the one who _ends_ the fight?" his voice is incredulous. "You were the one who _started_ it. And I was always by your side, Billy!"  
  
Billy remembers Harrington's words.  
"Since I _grew the fuck up_," he spits out. "Did I make myself clear about you leaving everyone the fuck alone?"  
  
"Yeah," Tommy looks defeated.  
  
Billy gives him a curt nod and turns on his heel, heading to the house.  
  
"S' _me_ who should've been in your place," Tommy's quiet voice sounds bitter and jealous and just simply sad. "Here, near _him_."  
  
Woah. Billy wonders if it's about friendship or maybe something _more_. He doesn't give a shit though.  
  
He turns around, teeth bared. No one dares to touch what's _his_.  
  
"Harrington's a big boy. Guess he's able to decide who he wants in which place," Billy feels absolutely zero sympathy.  
  
He watches from the porch Tommy dragging his feet to the car and getting out with his tail between his legs.  
  
Billy takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, and goes inside.  
So much for a _calm evening_, honestly.  
  
The moment he opens the door, Harrington jumps back. Billy's sure he was hovering here all this time, watching if there's a fight he needs to step in. _Protecting Billy._  
  
Jesus.  
  
That fills his chest with almost suffocating warmth, making him want to pull the boy into a hug and never let him go.  
  
But at the same moment he realizes it's time to make sure Harrington actually _obeys_ the rules and not just ignores them. The rules, yeah. That's good.  
  
He levels him with a stern look. Harrington's shifting from foot to foot, giving him a sheepish smile, all wide-eyed.  
  
"Uh, hi?"  
  
"We're going to have a _talk_," Billy tells him in his no-bullshit tone. "_Now_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it.  



	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think," Billy drawls, looking at the boy pointedly. "We'll start with what we needed to do from the very beginning."
> 
> "With...what??"
> 
> "Setting the rules."
> 
> Jesus, they're really doing it.  
He's going to need a smoke for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm beyond nervous to post their talk because really don't want to mess things up\get anything wrong.  
So please let me know what you think in the comments!

Billy gets comfortable on the couch, stretching his legs. Fucking _finally_. He almost hears his muscles thanking him after this long, horribly long day.  
  
He sighs approvingly. At least Harrington's folks have a taste for good furniture. Still doesn't excuse them being shitty parents to the boy though.  
  
Speaking of the devil. Harrington lingers in the doorway, watching Billy's every move nervously. Yeah. This fucking long day isn't over yet.  
  
"C'mere," Billy tells him gruffly, patting the couch near himself.

The boy comes out of the trance and goes to the couch, stumbling on his way. Billy watches as he sits in the requested spot, wide-eyed and careful.

He looks every bit like a deer in the headlights, ready to take off any minute. He doesn't though. Billy keeps quiet and watches the boy squirm in his spot, wringing his hands and licking his lips.  
  
"Am I in trouble?" Harrington breaks the silence.  
  
What a smart boy.  
  
"Why would you think that?" Billy asks in return, giving him a look that he's sure is predatory.  
  
It makes the boy even more nervous.  
  
"Well, ugh, I was um outside?" he sounds like he's not sure about it.  
  
Billy nods.  
"You were. And what did I tell you about that?"  
  
"To, to stay in-inside," Harrington gulps, stuttering, eyes never leaving Billy's.  
  
He looks so jumpy that Billy tugs at his hand, wanting to pull him closer, to calm him down a bit.  
  
But the moment he takes his hand the boy yelps, wincing, then quickly hides the hand behind his back.  
  
Which is, _really_ dumb move.  
  
"What was that?" Billy tightens his lips.  
  
"Wh...what? Nothing!"  
  
Even dumber.  
  
"You really think _lying_ to me would help your case, pretty boy?" Billy hears his own voice, low and deceivingly calm.  
Harrington seems to sense the danger in this voice just right because he lets out a little helpless whimper and gives Billy his hand.

Billy has a hard time controlling his anger. The hand is swollen a bit, a bruise forming already. That's what you get from punching some asshole's jaw without having a decent fight experience. _Stupid._  
  
"Wait here," he nothing but orders, getting up. "And _pray_ for it to not be broken."

It's not though. Billy saw enough broken bones to know for a fact that Harrington doesn't have any, it's just bruising, _thank God_.  
  
"Wait...what are you gonna do?"

He's sure he fixes Harrington with what must be a murderous look, considering how the boy shuts up instantly.  
  
While being in the kitchen Billy's almost sure he hears a tiny _'please don't be broken'_ whisper from the living room and has to stifle his snorts.  
  
This boy's _too much_.  
  
When he comes back, Harrington's practically trembling, but he didn’t move an inch. Billy really wants to praise him.  
  
"Here," he carefully lowers the ice pack on his bruised hand.  
  
"Oh...thank you," the boy looks so relieved to find out it's just an ice pack and not something scary that Billy can't help but gives his nape a little comforting scratch.  
  
"It doesn't hurt so much, and I can move my fingers," Harrington looks at him all hopeful. "Must not be broken, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah," Billy sighs in agreement. "Lucky you."  
  
Harrington gives him a relieved smile and leans into his touch, seemingly begging to get cuddled some more.  
  
Uh-huh, not yet.  
  
"Now," Billy retrieves his hand and Harrington immediately looks like a lost puppy. "Tell me what happened. Why did you go outside when I _specifically_ told you not to. I'm gonna listen to your side of the story."  
  
Harrington lets out a guilty sigh with his eyes downcast. _Here we go._  
  
"Well, I-I woke up and um, wanted to make some tea," he hugs the throw pillow as if searching for a bit of comfort, picking at the loose thread absentmindedly.

Billy thinks that the _only_ reason there's a pillow with a loose thread on the couch in a posh house like this must be that Harrington's constantly doing it, being nervous. This and his parents never being around to actually notice it and replace this pillow with a perfect new one. He doesn't like these thoughts.

"So I, ugh, went to the kitchen and then Tommy starts banging at the fucking door all of a sudden," Harrington continues. "I told him to fuck off the first time. But he pressed me to get out and talk to him. I, I _told_ him that I can't, _I swear_."  
  
He looks up at Billy with pleading eyes, like it's important to him that Billy _believes_ him, that he knows that he did _good_, at least tried to.  
  
Billy gives him an encouraging nod, drawing soothing circles on his knee. The boy's got himself worked up already.  
  
"But he, like, he kept laughing, like, what are you, _grounded_ or what," Harrington’s voice is no more than a whisper. "And I..."  
  
Billy kinda expects him to say that it's all Tommy's fault because he made him, or to tell that he forgot about what Billy told him, or something like that.  
  
But Harrington bites the bullet.  
  
"And I thought that I might as well sneak out and get rid of Tommy, with you _not knowing_ about it, and get away with that," his cheeks are tomato red. "So I did it and he kept annoying me with his dumb stuff and I got fed up with him and you know the rest."  
  
Billy lets his confession sink in, watching the tense boy next to him.  
  
"Thanks," he tells him earnestly. "Thanks for telling me the truth."  
  
Harrington looks at him with huge eyes.  
  
"S' important," Billy explains, squeezing his knee. "You might as well lie, y'know, come up with something. S' important that you didn't though."  
  
"I _couldn't_," the boy sighs, biting his lower lip. "There's just, I dunno, there's just _something_ about you, I guess I can't lie to you. I might not tell something but I would spill it out later anyway. So I would tell you even if you didn't fucking catch me red-handed."  
  
This sends a pleasant warmth to Billy's chest.  
  
"That's even more important," he smiles at the boy, and the small unsure smile he gets in return makes his heart flutter. "Kinda cute too."  
  
Harrington keeps quiet, his shoulders tight, obviously bracing himself for Billy's verdict. Jesus, it's not easy.  
  
He should probably take him over his knee now and give that ass what it deserves. But at the same time, it's kinda _not_ really what it should be started with.

He’s also really, _really_ not sure if he’s ready to see those _tears_ again right now. It's still going to happen inevitably, what with Harrington's signature behavior. But Billy can take it only knowing for sure his boy's safe.

So yeah. First things first.  
  
"I think," Billy drawls, looking at the boy pointedly. "We'll start with what we needed to do from the very beginning."  
  
"With..._what_??"  
  
"Setting the rules."  
  
Jesus, they're _really_ doing it.

He's going to need a smoke for this.

***

They move two loungers together, getting them as far from the pool as it makes Harrington comfortable.  
  
Billy makes a mental note to start making the boy get rid of this fear, but not now of course. It's probably the best to start _slowly_, in broad daylight and in Billy's, he means public, pool. Yeah, that's a plan.  
  
Billy lights a cigarette, sitting down and getting comfy.

"Can I bum one?" Harrington makes grabby hands, standing near his lounger, and fucking coughs.

Yeah, _no_.

"You sure can," Billy nods, inhaling. "When you're feeling better."

"Billy!"

"Did I stutter?"

Harrington huffs in annoyance and has the _nerve_ to _kick_ Billy's lounger a bit. Billy looks at the lounger, then slowly raises his eyes up to Harrington.

The boy steps back, bumping into the other lounger and almost falling. Billy manages to catch him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

"If you gonna act out, we'll fix it, just lemme take my belt off," Billy promises him darkly. "If you wanna have the talk we were planning, you better cut the crap and fucking _behave_."

"I'll behave," Harrington nods furiously, eyes huge.

"Didn’t think so," Billy grumbles, sitting him down on the lounger and letting his shirt go.

He smokes in silence for some time. Not for a _long_ time, of course, considering _who_ he's sitting with.

"S' like a firefly," Harrington points at his cig, a tiny light on its burning tip. "Just a red one. Cute."

"Nah, s' like a laser from the Death Star or something," Billy drawls lazily.

He's _dangerous_, not cute, thank you very much.

Jesus, it's so easy to talk shit with Harrington.

"No," the boy scrunches his nose. "The Death Star is _bad_, and it's _good_. All the stars are good here."

"How come you know?" Billy smirks.

He thinks he wants them to be good too though. It's comforting to think they are being watched by something nice from above, not something evil.

"Look," the boy tilts his head back, pointing at the stars.

Billy glances at the velvety sky, then takes his eyes off it and looks at the talking boy instead.

"So close and nice. Like you can reach out and shake some stardust on our heads. Cool, right?"

"Jesus, Harrington," Billy shakes his head. "And I thought you _hate_ poetry."

"Ugh, don't even start it," the boy makes a sour face. "Your notes on that Shakespeare shit were the _only_ thing that I could fucking understand. S' like I open the book and suddenly don't even speak English anymore."

Billy laughs at him. Harrington pouts.

"Dickhead," his voice is full of fond.

"Someone promised to be _good_."

"I _am_," Harrington sits all prim and proper, making Billy roll his eyes.  
  
Okay. It's time to get serious apparently. Billy sits straighter, looking the boy in the eye, and clears his throat.

"Alright. The thing is, I don't know a shitload of stuff about this type of…" _relationship_, his brain offers. "..._thing_ we're getting into. But I guess I know enough to cover what we actually need."  
  
"Did you do it with someone back at California?" Harrington frowns at him and what's that, _jealousy_?  
  
"You don't have to _do_ something to _learn_ about it, pretty boy," Billy smirks at him.

Yeah, jealousy indeed. _Nice._

"You just need to be curious, talk to people and research."  
  
"So, you _are_ curious."  
  
"I guess that makes _two_ of us," Billy levels him with a look, watching Harrington blush and nod.  
  
Even nicer.  
  
"So the key point’s it needs to be safe and good for both of us."  
  
Billy looks at the boy. If Harrington was paying this much attention in class at least once he'd get into way less trouble in school. Huh.  
  
"And I guess it's obvious it's good for both of us, so," Billy waves his hand, the cig flying like a crazy firefly indeed. "Let's talk safety first. Then I'll tell you what I think about the rules."  
  
"Isn't it _boring_?" Harrington makes a face at him. "I _know_ I'm safe with you."  
  
As much as it makes Billy's heart go berserk in his chest, it's not what he needs the boy to know. Well, not the only thing.  
  
"Thanks, baby," he smiles at Harrington, watching him blush at the pet name. "But it's not boring. It's _essential_."  
  
Now Harrington kinda does look like he _usually_ looks in class. Jesus, this boy's got no patience _at all_?  
  
"Look, I'm keeping you safe, that's right. But to do this I need to know some stuff."  
  
"Like my blood type? Why would you need that?"  
  
"I'm not talking _freaking blood type_ Harrington, _what the hell_, can you shut up for a _second_ and fucking _listen_ to me?!" Billy's probably being heard all the way to Hopper's cabin.  
  
But really, what the hell! Harrington finally shuts up, eyes boring into Billy's.

_Oh God._ He lets out a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to calm down.

"So. There might be times when you feel overwhelmed or can't take it anymore or just need to stop."

Harrington looks like he wants to say something, so Billy fixes him with a murderous look.

"We obviously avoid this kind of situation, but it _still_ might happen when we're not expecting it to. Like, _potentially_. Like you might feel that something I'm doing or saying sends your mind to the dark place. Or you might feel that you really can't take the punishment anymore, like it's too much and you can't bear it for real."  
  
Harrington shivers.  
  
"But if you say, like, _'stop'_ it might be confusing. 'Cause let's be blunt, you will beg to stop _pretty soon_ after getting over my knee while being able to take much more. Ugh, do I make any sense at all?"  
  
"Y-yeah, I think I get it," Harrington swallows hard, obviously thinking about how he's going to beg. Well, that's _true_, so. "S' like I need to tell you to stop so you _really_ stop, without actually saying _'stop'_. Right?"  
  
He could _really_ use some lessons in eloquence. But he's got the point, which is the only thing that matters.  
  
"Yeah, pretty boy, you got it," Billy sighs, relieved a bit. "You need to come up with some special word, the one you wouldn't say on accident either while getting punished or, like, _in bed_."  
  
He sees how Harrington's cheeks darken, but so do his _eyes_. Billy definitely likes what he sees.  
  
"So if anything - and I mean _anything_ \- makes you feel wrong, you say this word. And everything stops right then and there."  
  
Harrington bites his lip.  
  
"But what if you don't want to stop? What if you like what's going on and it's just something stupid - that's gonna make you _mad_? Or, I dunno, make you feel _bad_?"  
  
He seems really worried with this thought. Harrington looks like he's really scared of making people mad. Billy just prays it's _not_ because of him, not because of that beating which Tommy helpfully reminded him of earlier tonight.  
  
He touches the boy's hand. He doesn't flinch.  
  
"No, look," Billy makes his voice as gentle as he can. "It won't make me angry or frustrated _I swear_. I would be _glad_ actually."  
  
Harrington looks at him, unbelieving.  
  
"Yeah, ‘cause that means I won't hurt you," Billy tells him earnestly. "And that's, hurting you I mean, even accidentally, is the _fucking worst_. So it kinda keeps _me_ safe too."

Harrington's eyes become even wider like he struggles to believe it. Then he nods slowly.  
  
"Okay. Then," he thinks for a bit. "The word's _Nougat_."  
  
Billy's brows climb up his forehead.  
  
"You hate it _that_ much?"  
  
"Since last fall, _yeah_," Harrington hums rather darkly.

Billy's curious. But there'll be a better time for that.  
  
"Okay, it's settled then. You're doing very good," he praises Harrington, watching him get all blushing.  
  
Such a _baby_, after all.

Billy thinks for a bit. He really prefers to talk kinks and anything sex-related in the bedroom - not necessarily the _actual_ bedroom, this lounger looks good too, but, like, while being able to turn talk into _action_ any minute.

So if they start _this_ kind of conversation right now he really doubts they're gonna cover any other topics at all.

And as much as he wants to - okay, just _wants_, period, because the list of what he wants to do with Harrington is kinda _endless_ \- he feels it’s really important to discuss all the hypothetical psychological issues. So they stay like this – _hypothetical_.

So he licks his lips, pushing all the hot stuff to the back of his mind, and tries to focus.  
  
"Okay. Next thing I need you to tell me is if there's something I shouldn't do. Like, as a punishment or whatever."  
  
Harrington looks genuinely confused.  
  
"Like stuff that you know might hurt your feelings and such? M' not talking obvious shit that everyone knows shouldn't be done. I mean your _personal_ touchy subjects."  
  
The boy tenses, worrying at his lower lip, eyes darting around nervously.  
  
"What for?"  
  
"So I don't do it, _obviously_," Billy swallows the 'dumbass' he wants to add. "So I know what's it for sure."  
  
"And what, you _really_ won't do it?" Harrington plays with the hem of his shirt, fingers trembling a tiny bit. "Even if I'm bad? Even if you're angry? Even if I..._deserve_ it?"  
  
Billy frowns. What the fuck.  
  
"_Steve_...you don't deserve things that _hurt_ you, no matter what. You know that, _right_?”

The boy keeps his mouth shut, shrugging his shoulders.

Well shit.

“The point is, I want to take _care_ of you, okay? Sometimes..._real often_ apparently, considering your attitude," he shoots him a look, making Harrington blush again. "It involves some _firm hand_, yeah. But never something that might _really_ hurt your feelings or even _break_ you."  
  
He thinks Harrington isn't going to say anything at all when the boy speaks quietly.  
  
"I hate being _yelled_ at," he's not looking at Billy, setting his eyes on the woods instead, squinting into their looming mass. "Like, I don't understand why. But I don't even _hear_ the words properly, like, not registering any? So it's kinda pointless too. S' just makes me feel _worthless_ and it's kinda _scary_ and I'm ready to do _anything_ for it to just _stop_. Like...like they _hate_ me when yelling. I don't like being hated."

Billy blinks, his heart hammering in his chest.  
  
He suddenly remembers that one time at the diner when the kids were throwing fries at each other and not listening to anyone and eventually Hopper lost it and barked at El.

It wasn't even actual yelling and it was only _once_, after multiple times he told her in his regular voice, and the kids were going absolute _berserk_ to be honest, and Billy was kinda impressed his patience lasted _that_ long…

But Harrington just got up from his seat and went to the girl and sat near her, putting his arm around her shoulders. He didn't say a word but pouted at Hopper, big brown eyes sad and _judging_.

The Chief looked angry enough for anyone to shrink back, but the boy didn’t waver, just kept looking at him. Eventually, Hop went outside to cool down.

Later Billy caught a glimpse of him talking to El softly, both hugging. Harrington was looking at them too, a small and kinda sad smile curling his lips.

That was so, so weird back then. Now he understands it on a whole new level though.  
  
"No yelling," he agrees firmly. "_Promise_."  
  
"Also," the boy licks his lips, swallowing hard. "Like, maybe don't leave me alone? I mean, when I fucked up and you're pissed or something. I probably deserve it, I get it. S' just I'm alone almost all the time and...it's just...nice to have someone who _still_ wants to _see_ me even if I'm bad."  
  
"I _always_ want to see you," Billy croaks out, a lump in his throat. "And I'm not letting you be alone anymore."  
  
Harrington looks at him with those trusting eyes that make Billy’s chest constrict.

"Um...one more thing?" the boy whispers hesitantly as if he's not sure he's _allowed_ to ask for more.  
  
_Jesus._ Billy nods as enthusiastically as he can, encouraging him.  
  
"Y'know, when I do something wrong and my parents are here - on the second thought, when they're here I fuck up _constantly_," Harrington's lips twitch in the bitter half-smile.

"They just. My dad does this thing when he's _ignoring_ me completely. Like, he wouldn't _look_ at me, wouldn't _talk_ to me, even if I'm brave enough to _ask_ him something he wouldn't answer. And my mom just has this _disappointed_ face, y'know. _All the fucking time._ Not looking at me as well. No one talks to me, no one _touches_ me - I mean, it's not like there's a lot of it when things are okay, but... _S' like I don't exist at all._"  
  
He doesn't look at Billy, squinting at his own Nikes instead, feet bumping each other.  
  
"Could you please..._please_, don't do that to me?"  
  
Billy is just...speechless. He'd never thought things are _that_ fucked up. He'd never thought the boy's _that_ hurt. He's not even ashamed to admit his heart kinda breaks a little.  
  
Harrington’s dad probably yells at him, then he's left all alone, apparently something along the lines of go-to-your-room-and-think-about-your-behavior. Then both of his parents don't notice him on purpose, in order to teach him some fucked up lesson. And then they are off to another trip, leaving him on his own as usual.  
  
As if he's some _toy_.  
  
There's no actual punishment, yeah, but there's no _comfort_ too. Fucking up means getting hurt and abandoned. Some shit an asshole like Neil would do. Only classier, _of fucking course_, without getting physical.  
  
Billy clenches his fists.  
  
He suddenly gets another flashback, from around January or something. Things were starting to get kinda okay back then, but Billy was _nowhere_ near being friends with anyone yet.  
  
Harrington came to the school all weird, uncharacteristically quiet, with his mouth shut and his eyes downcast all the fucking time.

If there's one thing Neil taught Billy it's to sense people's mood right off the bat, and something was really _wrong_ with Harrington.  
  
Billy just didn't understand what exactly. And it’s not like he could just _ask_. It was driving him fucking crazy.

He watched the boy like a hawk all day. Harrington wasn't sassy or difficult in class and wasn't loud roaming the corridors, he didn't actually make eye contact with anyone until lunch when Wheeler and Byers practically sandwiched him, talking in soft voices and trying to make him smile. The worst thing was that he looked just so surprised and _grateful_ they actually _talked_ to him.

The couple shared a worried look when the boy didn't notice and it seemed like they _knew_ something that Billy had no idea of.

Harrington sucked at the practice later too, his head’s definitely anywhere but in the game. Which of fucking course had the coach yelling at him.

Billy watched the boy staying there with his eyes downcast, all tense and silent, and wanted to fucking _scream_ at the coach that he's making things only _worse_.

That's when this idiot Tommy snarled something about Harrington's getting it, and Billy threw a ball in his face, and everyone laughed, and the coach _fucking finally_ left Harrington alone and started yelling at Billy.

Billy's never found out what was wrong back then. He couldn’t talk to him, they weren’t enemies but they weren’t friends yet either.

So next morning he did the _only_ thing he could come up with. He broke into Harrington’s locker and left a Snickers bar in there. The boy was sporting this bright surprised smile _all the fucking day_. Billy considered it a win.

"Listen, if it's too much _I get it_, I'll take whatever you say fair, you don't have to..." Harrington's voice yanks him out of his flashbacks, soaked with panic.  
  
Billy blinks at him, stunned, and then just leans forward and shuts him up with a kiss.

It's nothing like their kisses before. It's just a soft and gentle touch, just something to soothe the boy, to show him he _cares_, he's got him, he's gonna keep him _safe_.  
  
"Baby," Billy's voice isn't made for gentleness, it's too deep, too rough, too dangerous, but he does his absolute best to sound as soft as possible.  
  
Harrington's face looks fragile and vulnerable.  
  
"_Baby_," Billy repeats, loving the taste of the word on his tongue. "You deserve to be taken care of, got it?"  
  
He stares into those big brown searching eyes and feels overwhelmed with the need to _protect_.  
  
"All the things you said...you shouldn't have experienced them at all. That's not the way to fix someone's behavior, that's the way to _hurt_ someone. Got it?"  
  
Harrington nods slowly, definitely unsure.  
  
"I would've _never_ done those anyway," Billy assures him. "I don't want to hurt you. And as I said already I can handle you just right. M' still glad you told me though. Now I'll be able to pay special attention to it. To make sure you’re okay. Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah," Harrington barely whispers, standing up and getting on Billy’s lounger.  
  
Billy scoots, pulling the boy to his chest. Harrington's lanky body is sprawled on top of him and on the lounger, long legs stretched on the ground so that he can rest his head on Billy's chest.  
  
Billy feels the boy burying his face in his chest, feels his fluffy hair tickling his skin through the thin fabric of his tank top, and doesn't fight the overwhelming gentleness flooding him.  
  
It's _weird_. He never was like this. All he ever used to be in life was either a tough guy or a charmer or a friend or, even if he's stubborn to admit it, a big brother. These were all different people and Billy was adjusting to whoever he needed to be at the moment.

Harrington turns him into a weird cocktail of emotions all at once. Billy craves to cuddle him and make sure he eats well and make him wear a sweater when it's cold - and at the same time he wants to play basketball with him and drink beers at the quarry and hang out as best friends do - and at the same time he feels the need to discipline him when he acts out to keep him in line and make sure he obeys his every word - and at the same time he kinda can't wait to slam him into the wall and fuck his brains out.  
  
How come this is his life? On the other hand, if he's being honest with himself, seems like it _is_ his life. Like, _this is who he is_. And he's surprisingly good with it.  
  
Billy holds Harrington close, smiling to himself.  
  
"You okay there, pretty boy?"  
  
"Yeah, m' good," Harrington nods, tickling him with his perfect hair, and looks up at him. "You're gonna tell me what you wanted to, yeah? The rules and stuff."  
  
"You sure you're ready for it? Maybe not now?"  
  
"_Now_," Harrington demands, his stubbornness peaking out, making Billy roll his eyes. "Wanna do it with you. _Want now_."  
  
"Okay, you brat," Billy chuckles softly, never letting him go. "Lemme think for a bit."

He holds the boy close all the time he thinks, stroking his back, drawing circles and scratching his nape absentmindedly. The wind is playing with the pool's water. The dark blue sky is peppered with stars, and somehow they seem even _brighter_ than before. The air smells of freshly baked goods all of a sudden and Billy has no idea where does it come from.  
  
Everything is serene and quiet. Harrington relaxes in his arms, breathing calmly, brushing his cheek over Billy's chest, all trusting.  
  
He's made up his mind, but the moment is too serene to ruin it with any sound, let alone speaking.  
  
On the second thought, nothing's _ever_ too serene with Harrington who's never able to sit _still_ for a _fucking minute_.  
  
"You're ready to tell," he sounds pouting, kicking his foot a little. "Why are you keeping quiet?"  
  
"How come you know?" Billy snickers, shaking his head.  
  
Harrington looks up at him, unimpressed.  
"I _feel_ it. You're thinking too loud, y'know?"  
  
"Shithead," Billy snorts, pinching his ear. "Okay."  
  
He sits the boy down on the lounger next to him. It’s surely nice to hold him close, but he needs to see his face during this talk.  
  
"Okay. So," he clears his throat, fixing Harrington with a serious stare. "M' gonna tell you my thoughts on what I believe suits you best, and you're gonna listen and tell me how you feel about that. But. Promise to tell me honestly. Don't be afraid to upset me or whatever stupid stuff. You _won't_. Deal?"  
  
"Deal," Harrington nods but frowns. "S' just what suits _us_ best. _Not just me, us_."  
  
"Okay, _dumbass_, obviously," Billy rolls his eyes to hide the warm wave crushing him. "Wouldn't suggest anything else."  
  
The boy looks at him expectantly, head tilted.  
Okay.  
  
"Well, what I think would work best is a real discipline for you. I get it that you're _always_ doing whatever the hell you want and _that's_ where all the problems start. M' gonna take care of you."  
  
He checks Harrington's reaction. The boy looks kinda embarrassed and content at the same time.  
  
"So the rules. I think just a few, the basics, so you can adjust to following them in the first place."  
  
He gives Harrington a serious look. The time for jokes came and went.

"First, you _never_ put yourself in danger. Means _no_ fucking woods alone, _no_ fucking quarry, _no_ risky stuff. Starting a fight when unnecessary counts too. Anything that puts you in _any_ kind of danger is off-limits."  
  
Harrington looks really surprised. Seems like he expected something entirely different, like 'always do your homework and eat your veggies' or other bullshit stuff. _Seriously._  
  
"Considering the potential situation," Billy hesitates, not knowing how to tell about interdimensional monsters without _actually_ speaking about them.  
  
"The _Upside Down_ kind of situation?" the boy understands him anyway.  
  
"Jesus, Harrington, your gremlins are corrupting you," Billy sighs. "But yeah. I know you're protecting your snotty bunch and pretty much everyone else. But I'm protecting _you_ from now on. So you're not doing it on your own. Only with me by your side. That's _not_ up for discussion. You break this rule - you're in _so_ much trouble you can't even _imagine_."  
  
"O-okay," Harrington nods, gulping and shivering visibly. Good.  
  
"Second. You're being nice and respectful to people who matter," Billy fixes him with a stern look. "Means no being a little shit to those who fucking care about your ass. Like, I don't want to hear you mouthing Hopper off or something like that."  
  
Harrington turns red, all of a sudden finding the ground under his feet pretty interesting.  
  
"Eyes on me," Billy demands. "Am I _clear_?"  
  
"Yeah, I got it," the boy looks up, cheeks flaming.  
  
"Good. Now, next. _No lying_," he gives him a dark stare. "Deliberately not telling the truth considers as lying too. See, the main point of this whole relationship is _trust_. So we trust each other _unconditionally_. Means we always tell each other the truth, whether it's about how we feel or what we've done. S' essential."  
  
"I like it," Harrington tells him thoughtfully.  
  
Yeah, let's wait till he has to confess in something that inevitably results in getting in trouble.  
  
"Good, 'cause I like it too," he says instead. "And the last one, pretty boy. What I say goes. Means you're listening to me and doing as I told if I tell you specifically to do or not to do something. I'll always listen to you and ask what you think, but again, you trust me in deciding what's best for you."  
  
Harrington nods but looks kinda worried at the same time. Billy thinks of his _constant_ need to talk back and argue and sees his point. It might be _tough_ to learn.  
  
"What if I fuck up?" the boy asks hesitantly. "I mean, I agree, I want it, but what if I _fail_?"  
  
"S' okay," Billy shrugs. "I know you wanna be good and I know you gonna work hard for it, but see, you _will_ fuck up inevitably. There's nothing that can't be fixed. You act out then just take your punishment, learn your lesson and that's all. Clean slate and all that shit."  
  
Harrington just blinks.

"So _easy_...s' just a punishment and that's all?"  
  
He's so naive it’s almost _endearing_.  
  
"Oh baby, you won't consider it _'and that's all'_ when you're _actually_ taking your punishment, trust me," Billy chuckles. "Don't think I go easy on you. M' not exactly a soft guy as you might've noticed, and I'm gonna be pretty stern regarding discipline. Bottom line, when you fuck up, I make sure you're not forgetting your lesson any time soon."

Billy knows himself. Harrington evokes all the softness in him, yeah, but at the same time, he won't take any bullshit. He'll be going all in whether it's cuddling or having sex or taking him over the knee. So it's only fair to let the boy know in advance things can be _pretty ruthless_.  
  
Harrington sports his deer in the headlights look again, swallowing hard.  
  
"And as we're talking _punishments_," Billy empathizes the last word, watching the boy turn cherry red. "I believe the simple _good old thrashing_ is exactly what you _need_."  
  
It looks like Harrington wishes for the Upside Down to actually swallow him up _right the fuck now_. He's not denying _a thing_ though. Billy can't help but smirks. So he's right.  
  
"So expect no mercy. M' never gonna cross your limits, of course, keeping it safe, but it's gonna _hurt_. You're a strong boy, way stubborn too. It takes _a fucking lot_ to really teach you a lesson."  
  
Harrington's face is so red it's unbelievable. He chews on his lips and glances at Billy’s biceps, the nervousness radiating off him.  
  
"Hey, it doesn’t have to happen if it’s too much or you don’t want it," Billy reminds him, frowning.

“_No!_” Harrington’s outburst makes them both snicker.  
  
"I mean, no one’s _ever_ punished me, especially...like _this_," the boy struggles with the words, definitely embarrassed as hell. "And it _did_ hurt when you…y’know, _in the woods_ yesterday. But yeah. I, yeah, _I want it_."  
  
Billy reaches out and squeezes the back of his neck, giving him some comfort.  
  
"Just…what's then?" the boy suddenly asks him in a small voice. "After the..._after_?"  
  
"As I said, all is forgiven," Billy tries to make his voice super soft. "Gonna give you some aftercare, like, _cuddle_ and make sure you feel _safe_ and know that you're _good_ and cared for and such."  
  
_'Make sure you feel loved'_ nearly slips out of his mouth. _Jesus._  
  
"And you won't be _mad_ anymore?" seems like the boy's more worried not about the spanking itself but about making Billy _angry_. Again.  
  
"No. Why would I? You learned your lesson," he has a vague idea what Harrington’s scared of. "Listen, I'm _never_ gonna leave you alone or do anything..._cruel_ to you. It's not happening. Not with me. _I promise_."  
  
Harrington watches him with his huge dark eyes, all trusting and open.  
"I know," he gives Billy a small but genuine smile. "I _trust_ you. Also, cuddles sound nice."  
  
Billy's not actually a warm and cuddly kind of guy. But this boy definitely does _something_ to him. So he scoops him up and holds him close, soft hair smelling of some posh shampoo and skin smelling of grass and sun and summer.  
  
"_Really_ want it with you," Harrington's whisper is raspy and hot in his ear.  
  
Billy's heart starts pounding so loud he almost can’t hear anything else.  
  
"Me too, pretty boy. _Me too_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. Seems like things are going to get steamy in the next chapter, although I've never really intended on writing THAT kind of stuff.


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy wonders if his softness comes back to bite him in the ass later. But nothing terrible happens yet. The days are bright and sunny and summery, with a taste of Harrington's favorite popsicles on Billy's tongue.
> 
> All is good.
> 
> And then Harrington's parents come to town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's NO steamy content here, sorry. It was one hell of a week (more than a week actually) which honestly sucked.  
So it's probably no wonder the chapters took a completely unexpected turn.  
It's huge though, and there's all this hurt\comfort and discipline stuff and also Robin makes an appearance too.  
So I really, really hope you enjoy it.  
❤  
Tell me what you think plz?  
Love you.

"Last time I checked Christmas was in, like, _six months_."  
  
Billy shoots Robin a confused glare. He's fucking _hungry_. If she wants to talk in riddles she should at least wait until he's had his popcorn and coke. A burger would be nicer though.  
  
They're waiting for Harrington to get snacks at the movie theater's food court, since he declared it his treat. Well, who are Billy and Robin to say no to the free popcorn?! They told him to get the biggest buckets.  
  
"It's just you look like you've unwrapped your favorite present this morning," Robin looks at him like she's trying to see into his mind. That's kinda unnerving.  
  
Well, about that favorite present part, you kinda can put it that way. Billy really hopes that the weird heat he feels on his cheeks is _not_ him blushing. He's not the one to _blush_, for fucks sake.  
  
He automatically looks at Harrington, who's trying to figure out how to bring three big cokes and three huge buckets of popcorn in one go.  
  
Billy's mouth curls up into a warm smile without him even registering it.  
  
_"Oh. My. God."_  
  
Robin lets out a loud gasp and gapes at him, her hands crossed.  
  
"_What_?" Billy finds himself gulping nervously.  
  
"_Seriously_, Hargrove?" the girl squints at him accusingly. "You've finally got yourself your dingus and just sort of forgot to _mention_ it to me?!"  
  
Billy winces. It's pointless to even ask how did she get it. Maybe she _does_ see into his mind. He wouldn't be surprised.  
  
"Can you not _scream_ about it?!"  
  
"So it's _true_! You absolute selfish asshole!" she slaps him on the hand, and it's strong enough to _actually_ hurt. Ouch.  
  
"It's just. Damn. I can't believe it," she shakes her head, staring into the space.  
  
"What's that?" Harringron approaches them, cradling three buckets of popcorn and holding all three cokes in his hands.  
  
"Jesus," Billy hurries to take some from him, before it ends all over the floor.  
  
Robin watches them, amused. Billy's _really_ tempted to flip her off.  
  
"Ah, dingus, we're just talking about the _hot date_ Billy's got himself," she tells Harrington with a playful smirk.  
  
"_Buckley_," Billy hisses out while wolfing down his popcorn. Or maybe it's Harrington's. Sharing is caring, anyway.  
  
"Who?" Harrington's look hardens immediately, frown appearing.  
  
Christ. Trusting like a child. Billy's gonna drown himself in his coke.  
  
Robin does a poor job of stifling her snorts.  
  
"_Who's that??_" Harrington asks again, looking from Billy to Robin, lips puckered into an offended pout.  
  
It's too cute. Too cute to stop this little prank.  
  
Billy nudges Robin, almost choking on his popcorn.  
  
"Well, I heard it's someone _cute_," she singsongs, a mischievous glint in her eye.  
  
Something sad is flickering in the boy's eyes, and Billy's about to tell Robin to stop teasing him, but she beats him to it, obviously thinking they're being mean too.  
  
"...who also uses a _Farrah Fawcett spray_," the girl winks at Harrington.  
  
Nothing happens. He still looks confused, frowning. Billy cannot believe it.  
  
"_Really_, pretty boy?" he asks Harrington with his mouth full, making Robin scrunch her nose, muttering _'gross'_ at his antics. He shoves more popcorn in.  
  
"But..."  
  
"And I hope his pretty looks make up for his _stupidity_," Robin says, deadpan, both her and Billy staring at the boy.  
  
"But... I'm... Wait, wh-what... _His_?" Harrington turns all pink in record time. "_Oh my God!_"  
  
Robin bursts with laughter. Billy follows suit, shaking his head unbelievably.  
  
Harringron groans, quickly putting his signature Ray-bans on and hiding his eyes, but his red ears and cheeks are still on full display.  
  
Billy snatches the shades from him too, for a good measure.  
  
"Stop just trusting whatever shit you hear, pretty boy," Billy flicks his tongue at him and musses up his hair. "Especially when you know the situation fucking _firsthand_."  
  
Harrington turns even a darker shade of red, but still pouts at both of them.  
  
"You assholes."  
  
"See who's talking!" Robin whacks him on the head. "I need to know everything, dingus. _In details_. You owe me, now I'm the only lonely heart here."  
  
Harrington's eyes dart to Billy's. _The details._ Yeah. He can't help but smirks.  
  
"Ugh, what are we watching again?" Harrington tries to change the topic.  
  
Apparently Robin takes pity on him.  
  
"Day of the Dead," she announces excitedly.  
  
The boy gulps, eyeing her, all unsure.  
  
"I dunno," he makes a face. "The Goonies kinda looks nicer though."  
  
"Yeah, and we've watched it twice already," Robin sighs.  
  
"It's also like a real-life Goonies with your bunch of gremlins every day," Billy snorts.  
  
To be honest, Day of the Dead doesn't seem all that inspiring to him too, but it's Robin's turn to choose, so.  
At least he'll get a chance to cuddle the boy a bit if it ever gets too scary.  
  
"I love gremlins," Harrington shrugs, smiling. "The movie, I mean, Gizmo looks like such a cool pet."  
  
"No way in hell," both Billy and Robin tell him in unison. "You'd totally feed him after midnight, just to see what happens."  
  
"As if you wouldn't," the boy scoffs and maybe, just maybe, he's got a point.  
  
Billy gives him a soft look, and catches Robin watching them, all heart-eyed. He flips her off, grinning.

***

They're almost entering the cinema when these two high school girls pass them by.  
  
Billy files them under the _'absolute bitches'_ label, what with both strongly reminding him of Carol, wicked smirks and bubble gum and all.  
  
Of fucking course they're gossiping and he doesn't pay attention at first, until it hits him they're snickering and definitely talking shit about Robin.  
  
He can't actually hear anything specific, but he's been in the Hawkins High enough to have no fucking doubt.  
  
Of course, Robin notices it too, just pretends that she doesn't. They've talked about it before, sharing their cigs and secrets under the bleachers which became quiet regular at school after they've accidentally found out that they have _something very_ _special_ in common. A resident bully and a girl from the school's band. Fucking _incredible_.  
  
She's the only one Billy told about Harrington back then, when having the boy as his seemed like a hazy dream. She's the first one who told him he's got a real chance and must fucking _go for it_. Turns out, she was right all this time.  
  
Robin's always told him that she's used to all this gossip and whispers and mocking stares. Doesn't mean this shit should be tolerated, especially when she's got her _friends_ to defend her.  
  
Billy shoots the girls a murderous glare, opening his mouth to say something evil, but he never gets a chance.  
  
The next moment both girls are screaming, their white tank tops soaked with icy coke.  
  
"Woah," Harrington widens his eyes, all fake-innocense, empty plastic cup in hand. "I _really_ thought there's a trashcan here."  
  
Robin blurts out a surprised laugh, covering her mouth with her hands. Billy just stares, stunned, until he sees the movie theater's worker eyeing them suspiciously and grabs Harrington's sleeve, pushing him into the screening room before they get in trouble.  
  
"Harrington," he breathes out, while they're looking for their seats. "That was..."  
  
He hesitates. That was an absolutely horrible thing to do, and in all honesty he should scold him for that - but for fucks sake, those bitches _deserved_ it. Was kinda funny too.  
  
"_Brilliant_," Robin finishes the sentence for him, beaming. "You're a bad boy, dingus!"  
  
"Oh yeah, he is," Billy gives the boy a playful smirk, making him blush again. "There's no more coke for you though, _bad boy_."  
  
That's it. That makes at least some kind of a lesson...  
  
"Worth it," Harrington just shrugs, pleased with himself.  
  
...Or maybe not. Billy chuckles, finally finding their seats.  
  
"And hey, Robin? Those assholes are just _jealous_, " Harrington calls in a loud whisper, getting dirty looks from some old people in front of them.  
  
"If you're going to say they're jealous of me hanging out with you two dickheads, I'm taking your popcorn, dingus."  
  
"Nah," Harrington huffs. "S' just you're cool and they're miserable."  
  
Billy really, _really_ wants to kiss him right here.  
  
"Exactly," he agrees, voice firm. "Pathetic bitches."  
  
Those people in front of them look like they're _this close_ to leaving the movies. Well, it might be better for them this way, honestly, are they ready to watch a _horror_?  
  
He doesn't pay attention to them and looks at Harrington instead.  
  
"You're _whipped_," Robin fake-coughs, catching him staring.  
  
"Shut up."  
  
Maybe she's got a point though. The moment Harrington whispers about how thirsty he is Billy immediately shares his coke with the little shit.  
  
Well, Robin does the same though, because the boy can fucking drink and she takes pity on Billy. So that probably makes _two_ of them whipped.  
  
Whatever.

***

The week goes smoothly. He and Harrington become kinda attached at the hip, either chilling at the boy's place or roaming the town's streets or watching the little freaks doing their nerdy things.  
  
Billy catches himself finding this babysitting stuff not so torturous - like, _whatever_, as long as they're doing it together.  
  
Harrington's always at the pool when it's Billy's shift, smiling at him lazily from the lounger or bickering with Robin (_'what the hell, it's summer, it's supposed to be fun, you brought books to the pool, Robin, it's against some law I'm sure, Billy, tell her?_'), or playing with his bunch of kids and giving Billy a hard time.  
  
He hasn't actually tried to act out or test his boundaries yet though. Sometimes it seems like he tries to push Billy and see what happens but then he backs away pretty quickly.  
  
There's _still_ a lot of backtalk and bratty attitude and arguing, but Billy tries to stop it with either a stern glare or a scolding voice or maybe a single half-hearted occasional slap on the go.  
  
It's mostly because he has no heart to _actually_ punish the boy - every moment he almost decides he's had enough and gets ready to give him what he deserves, the brat _immediately_ turns all cute and adorable, with these big eyes and soft hugs and 'I'll be _sososo good_, Billy' promises.  
  
The charming bastard knows _exactly_ what he's doing. Billy wonders if his softness comes back to bite him in the ass later. But nothing terrible happens yet. The days are bright and sunny and summery, with a taste of Harrington's favorite popsicles on Billy's tongue.  
  
All is good.  
  
And then Harrington's parents come to town.

***

They're basically visiting for the weekend, just _two goddamn days_. Billy's never thought two days can seem like fucking _eternity_.  
  
Max busts into his room on a Saturday night without knocking, nearly giving him a heart attack.  
  
"_Jesus!_ Were you raised by wolves?!" Billy jumps on his bed, the book he was reading falling on the floor. "What if I was..."  
  
"Oh my _God_, as if I care," Max rolls her eyes. "Gross."  
  
Which is, it's not like _he's_ busting in her room?!  
  
"Anyway, I don't have time for this bullshit," she gives him her walkie-talkie and turns on her hill. "You owe me a trip to the Arcade, all games included."  
  
Billy gapes at her. She's apparently gotten a bad case of a sunstroke.  
  
"What? For your goddamn _walkie_?!"  
  
"For one _talk_."  
  
And she's out, slamming the door shut and leaving Billy fucking confused.  
  
"I mean yeah, sisters sound like _fun_," the walkie comes to life with Harrington's voice, and Billy jumps for the second time in a minute.  
  
"Jesus, pretty boy, warn a guy, would ya," he's smiling before he even realizes it. "Why didn't you call? Y'know, the phone and all that grownup shit?"  
  
"Yeah, with my mom eavesdropping all the fucking talk," Harrington sighs, sounding tired. "Oh yeah, um, _over_."  
  
"Over?"  
  
"Yeah, Dustin says you can't actually talk with these things without saying 'over'," the boy explains.  
  
Billy bangs his head on the pillow.  
  
"Jesus, Harrington, you're something else," he chuckles, not even trying to hide his fondness. "You can talk to me without this shit, I swear. How are you there, what's with your folks?"  
  
"Okay I guess," he doesn't sound okay. "Tired. And they, well, disappointed? As always."  
  
"Jesus, they're here for what, one day? That's _fast_," Billy frowns, picking up the book from the floor and toying with it absentmindedly.  
  
The boy hums, his voice strained.  
  
"They're like, _world champions_ in that," he huffs bitterly. "Apparently I'm doing _everything_ wrong all the fucking time. Even if it means just having a fucking lunch."  
  
Billy sighs. He'd love to kidnap the boy right the fuck now.  
  
"Baby," he purrs into the walkie, voice low. "You're perfect. Don't let them get under your skin. You're my _good boy_, right?"  
  
Harrington's breath hitches.  
  
"Yours," he whispers. "Don't wanna sleep alone tonight. I mean, wanna sleep with _you_."  
  
Billy's heart does _not_ flutter.  
  
"You always put all your paws on me," he tells Harrington. "Kick and toss all the fucking time in your sleep too. Lemme have a couple of peaceful nights, little shit, would ya?"  
  
"You _miss_ my paws and kicking," Harrington's not buying it. "Shithead."  
  
Billy's about to answer when he hears a man's voice in the background, telling _Steven_ to get dressed for dinner. Must be Harrington's dad.  
  
The voice is somehow so _cold_ that Billy feels goosebumps on his skin. Jesus.  
  
The boy groans and yells, nearly making Billy deaf.  
  
"M' not hungry!"  
  
There's some disgruntled noise and then a woman's voice comes closer, almost equally as cold as the man's.  
  
"We've discussed it. Get dressed and come downstairs."  
  
So that's the boy's mom. Nice.  
  
There's a sound of the door being slammed shut and Harrington's angry scoff.  
  
"Fucking _discussed_, yeah."  
  
"_Steve_," Billy scolds him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Language. That's your mom, after all."  
  
Harrington sighs, exasperated.  
  
"Stupid. S' not even a family dinner, just some boring fancy thing with dad's douchebag colleagues where everyone's making me uncomfortable."  
  
"That bad?"  
  
"Just stupid. You would think they'd ask me how's it without them or something. But my dad's definition of parenting is scolding me as much as he can and making me listen to him. And my mom's always doing what he says. She only cares about how do I look or what am I dressed in or shit like that."  
  
Well that sucks. Billy wants them to be together right now, shooting hoops, or watching the gremlins at the Arcade, or roaming the streets and then kissing like they can't get enough of each other in Billy's car, because apparently his Camaro's _made_ for things like _that_, according to Harrington.  
  
"Bet you got some preppy outfit for this dinner, pretty boy," Billy teases him, trying to lighten the mood and sweeten the pill.  
  
"Well _duh_," he snorts, then lets out a sigh. "Wish you could come. Like, would make it _real_."  
  
"Now _that_ would be some dinner," Billy chuckles and then hears one more call from Harrington's dad's cold voice.  
  
It makes his skin too tight. From what Billy knows, dads don't like to be ignored.  
  
"Shit, I gotta go now," Harrington definitely frowns. "Haven't even changed yet."  
  
That means his dad's gotta wait even longer. Shit. It shouldn't make him so nervous.  
  
"Hurry up then. And be polite," Billy tells him quickly. "You hear me? _Behave_."  
  
"I don't want to."  
  
Little motherfucker.  
  
"_Steve,_" it's Billy's warning voice, the boy should know that he's not kidding anymore.  
  
"S' _hard_."  
  
"I know, pretty boy. But I know you can do it."  
  
He needs him to behave. He needs him to be _safe_ \- and yes, Harrington's folks are not like Neil, he knows they wouldn't lay a finger on him, but he didn't like that cold voice a single bit, and he _can't fucking stand_ the thought of his boy being hurt in _any_ way - so he needs him to be polite to not get in trouble.  
The only thought makes his blood fucking _boil_.  
  
"Steve?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Billy licks his lips nervously.  
"M' keeping the walkie tonight. If anything's wrong - whatever - just use it and tell me. No matter what or when. Promise?"  
  
"Max's gonna rob you off."  
  
"I don't care," he snarls. "Promise me."  
  
"Yeah, I promise," there's a smile in his voice.  
  
"Now go," Billy orders him. "And be good."  
  
"Okay," Harrington breathes out, sulking. "Over and out."  
  
Billy shakes his head. Sometimes he wonders if Harrington just believes whatever dumb shit his gremlins are feeding him.  
  
"Over and out," he grumbles, setting the walkie on his bed.  
  
He tries to go back to the book but can't bring himself to focus on the words.  
  
Seems like he's gonna be able to relax only when he holds his boy in the arms again, seeing that he's okay.  
  
Stupid Harrington.

***

The walkie comes to life in the middle of the night.  
  
"Billy?"  
  
Billy wakes up with a start, inhaling sharply, eyes darting around in panic, chest heaving.  
  
He quickly takes in his surroundings. His room is swimming in the thick blue darkness, pale moonlight ghosting over the blinds.  
  
The walkie lays next to his pillow.  
  
"Steve?" he grabs it, heart booming wildly. "What happened?"  
  
There's a tiny strained sound in return.  
  
Billy's mind goes a mile a minute. He glances at his watches and takes a guess it's too late for the problem to be the boy's parents.  
  
"Hey? A _nightmare_?"  
  
"M-hm," Harrington hiccups in confirmation, and something loosens in Billy's chest.  
  
Yeah, nightmares suck, but it's something he can work with, can actually take it _under control_.  
  
"It-it was," Harrington stutters. "In the _pool_ and..."  
  
"Breathe, baby, breathe," Billy coaxes him in a voice _so_ soft he'd be mortified to admit he even _capable_ of, given other circumstances. "Want me to drive over to yours?"  
  
"No!" Harrington practically screams, voice hoarse and scared. "Please, don't go anywhere. _Stay inside._ Promise me."  
  
Well that's something entirely new.  
  
"Why?" he frowns, looking out of the window.  
  
The street's peaceful and quiet, silent summer night coloring the town and all its inhabitants in its deep blue hues.  
  
It doesn't seem like there might be _anything_ dangerous out there.  
  
But then again, less than a year ago Billy was roaming these streets, thinking the same, and having _no fucking idea_ what was pacing here alongside him.  
  
"_Promise me_, Billy, " Harrington's voice is pleading.  
  
"Jesus, chill, pretty boy, okay, you have my fucking _word_," Billy hurries to calm him down. "Just tell me what's wrong."  
  
"_It_ was in the _pool_," the boy repeats, soothed by Billy's promise a bit. "Was _hunting_. And you - you were - _you were swimming_..."  
  
He breaks off, voice turning into the terrified hiccups.  
  
Oh _shit_. Billy curses fucking _everything_, from Harrington's parents to his own promise to the boy.  
  
He _needs_ to hold him close and kiss away his fear and whisper to him that everything's okay, it's just a stupid nightmare, it's not real, to hold him until he settles down in his arms and sleeps.  
  
Billy's whole body _aches_ with need. But he gave his word. And he's gotta work with what he has.  
  
"Shh, baby, s' not real, s' just a nightmare, yeah," he whispers into the walkie. "M' _here_ and _alright_ and you're _talking_ to me right now, yeah?"  
  
Harrington makes a little affirmative sound.  
  
"You _sure_ you don't want me to come?"  
  
"Stay home! You _promised_!" the boy sounds anxious again.  
  
As if Billy would _ever_ break his word to him.  
  
"Just had to ask, pretty boy. I'm keeping my word."  
  
"Good," Harrington sniffs, voice calmer now. "M' trusting you."  
  
"That's right, baby, so you should be," Billy smiles. "Now, name me five things that you can see right now."  
  
"_What?_ Why would I?" the boy sounds confused. "Is that some psychological shit?"  
  
Billy lets out a heavy sigh. Well, he's glad the boy calmed down enough for his usual stubbornness to make an appearance, but he wonders just _how much_ he needs to work on his obedience for Harrington to stop questioning what he tells him to do, at least _sometimes_.  
  
"Just do it."  
  
"Ain't it just _stupid_..."  
  
_"Steve."_  
  
Billy uses his warning tone, _again_. For the fucking _second time_ this night. That's what he gets for being lenient and having no heart to fill these doe eyes with tears.  
  
Letting a shitload of minor crimes slide all this week was probably a big mistake. He needs to be more stern. Maybe he's spoiling Harrington even more, what with him being a spoiled brat already.  
  
Well okay then. The next time this little shit acts out he's gonna get it _good_.  
  
"_Now_," he tells the boy firmly.  
  
"I, um, see the desk," Harrington tells him dutifully. "And the can of coke. And my, my toy car. And the basketball. Also that tshirt you wore yesterday."  
  
The last part sends pleasant warmth to Billy's chest, wiping all the frustration away.  
Maybe Robin's right. Maybe this little shit _does_ have him wrapped around his finger.  
  
"Very good, baby," he praises him, almost seeing how the boy smiles. Harrington _loves_ to be praised, like a puppy always wanting to be petted. "What's the color of your toy car?"  
  
"Um, red."  
  
"Nice color, yeah?"  
  
"Like a strawberry," Harrington tells him, sounding more relaxed already. "Love strawberries."  
  
"Okay," Billy chuckles softly. "Can you reach out to your basketball?"  
  
There's a loud shuffling coming from the walkie, making Billy wince and cover the dynamic with his blanket. The _last_ thing he needs is Max or Susan waking the fuck up.  
  
"Got it," Harrington tells him. "S' orange."  
  
"Good boy. Now tell me how does it feel to the touch."  
  
"Um, familiar," he sounds like he's trying hard to complete Billy's task. "Like rubber? _Good._ Comforting."  
  
"Aren't you _wonderful_, pretty boy," Billy tells him with a soft smile.  
  
"I _am_," Harrington agrees, letting out a content sigh.  
  
He definitely sounds calm, even sleepy now.  
  
"Shithead. Now put the ball back and take that tshirt, okay?"  
  
The boy throws the ball on the floor with a loud thwack.  
  
"Jesus," Billy winces again. "You gonna wake up your folks."  
  
"Nah," Harrington yawns. "You can literally scream in their ear and they would just turn over."  
  
Billy chuckles. Well that's good.  
  
"Got a shirt?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"You can put it on and go to sleep in it."  
  
"M' gonna cuddle with it, smells like _you_," Harrington's literally sounding half-asleep. "S' like you're _here_, with me."  
  
"Gonna be with you for real soon, pretty boy."  
  
Billy listens to him getting comfy and mumbling something incoherent.  
  
He listens long enough for the boy to drift off to sleep peacefully, stupid half-smile plastered on his face.  
  
Now he can go to sleep too.

***

The next morning is Sunday, and everything seems _perfect_, from the sunshine beaming into Billy's window and eggs and bacon he's having for breakfast, to Max being actually nice and not giving him shit about hogging her walkie.  
  
Harrington's forced to spend the day with his folks, having to keep his dad company before they're off to the next long-ass business trip.  
  
"Can't fucking _wait_," he tells Billy in the morning, using the walkie again and making him chuckle. "Dad's getting on my nerves. Gonna shoot hoops now, helps me to let off some steam."  
  
Billy reminds him to be fucking _polite_. Harrington's promise _sorely_ lacks enthusiasm, but it'll do. There's only _one day_ left, for fucks sake.  
  
Billy's got a day off today, so he tinkers with Camaro for a bit, gives Max a lift to Wheelers', where their bunch is gathering again, and hangs out with Robin in the diner, trying to resist her interrogation about him and Harrington.  
  
They end up almost getting kicked out of the diner for laughing too loud and getting Robin's milkshake all over the table.  
  
The day goes _too_ perfect. He should've been fucking _suspicious_.  
  
He drives to Melvald's, deciding to be, like, _extra_ nice and buy Max some batteries for the walkie.  
  
Or maybe he just doesn't want the thing to die on him while they're talking with Harrington. Whatever.  
  
The store's almost empty.  
  
It's not Joyce's shift, but he still runs into her and Hopper buying something in the store, nearly interrupting their _kiss_. Jesus.  
  
He squeezes his eyes shut and turns on his hill immediately, but they've already spotted him.  
  
The way they jump to put a decent distance between them is really hilarious. Like _they are_ the teens, not him.  
  
"Hi," Billy hides his grin, trying to pass it off as a greeting smile.  
  
Joyce laughs softly, shaking her head and making Hop let out an awkward chuckle as well.  
  
"All good, kiddo?" he claps Billy on the shoulder with his huge grizzly paw.  
  
They're all _'kiddo'_ to him, like there's no age difference between Billy or Harrington and El or the rest of the snotty gang. It's kinda comforting though.  
  
Billy nods, humming happily. Everything's awesome. Fucking for real.  
  
Joyce gives him a warm look.  
  
"Even more tanned now, are you? Look at him, Hop."  
  
"That's what watching everyone going crazy at the pool all day does for you I guess," Billy snickers. "Come some time, both of you. Gonna get tanned in no time too."  
  
"Can't _wait_ to get _deaf_ from all the kids' screaming, and how did you put it again, _go crazy_, _yeah_," The Chief gives a hearty laugh.  
  
Billy tries to picture him in the lounger, swimming shorts on, drink in hand, Mrs. Wheeler and her bunch of ladies talking his ear off. Yup. If that ever, _ever_ happens he needs Jonathan to be around. They'd need _pictures_.  
  
"Where's your partner in crime?" Hopper frowns, looking around.  
  
Billy opens his mouth to tell about the boy being with his parents for once, but Joyce beats him to it.  
  
"_Oh._ There he is."  
  
Her voice is so _worried_ Billy almost gives himself whiplash from turning to the window.  
  
There's Harrington on the street, indeed. _Two_ of them actually, Steve and his dad.  
  
Billy gives Harrington Sr. the once-over. He's objectively handsome, tall, hair resembling his son's, only way more tamed. The man's in good shape too, his torso wrapped in an impeccably white polo shirt.  
  
There's something _really_ _unsettling_ about his face though, eyes specifically. Billy gets it in about a second. Harrington's father _strongly_ reminds him of a _lizard_ \- the same cold indifferent stare with absolutely _zero_ emotions going on.  
  
His lips are pursed together, so the man's probably _pissed_, but his eyes remain _empty_.  
Yeah, a lizard. It gives Billy _creeps_.  
  
His son, on the contrary, is always wearing his heart on his sleeve. And right now the boy is _angry_. _Hurt_, as Billy can see, and angry beyond measure.  
  
It's not like it was with Tommy H. though. It's not that fire, it's not King Steve.  
  
Harrington looks like a little boy to him right now, spoiled and difficult, but hurt too. He looks _desperate_ again, and Billy doesn't like it at all.  
  
The boy's wearing a pastel polo and his tight jeans that made Billy's life difficult in school, paired with the brand new Nikes, looking every bit a good preppy boy with rich parents.  
  
But his whole demeanor tells the other story. He's got this bitchy smirk plastered on his face, hands wrapped tight around the basketball he brought with himself.  
  
_'Helps me to let off some steam.'_  
  
Billy knows trouble when he sees one.  
And fucking _everything_ about Harrington spells it out loud. In all caps, huge neon letters.  
  
Father and son are facing each other and obviously having a heated argument, although all Harrington Sr. does is pursing his lips and muttering something.  
  
Steve dribbles the ball angrily, spitting something out, definitely not being quiet _at all_.  
  
People who pass them on the street start giving them looks, and it's definitely making Harrington's dad uncomfortable.  
  
Yeah, he wouldn't want to _cause a scene_, Billy's sure. He gives his son a curt nod to the posh shiny car parked nearby. The boy shakes his head furiously, eyes angry, and snaps something suspiciously similar to 'fuck off'. Yeah, _definitely_ that, considering how Hopper's eyebrows climb under his hat.  
  
Billy briefly wonders what _exactly_ Harrington thinks being _polite_ actually means.  
  
The Chief lets out a long-suffering sigh and goes to the store's exit.  
  
"One second, Joyce."  
  
Billy follows him.  
  
When they reach the doors the scene is over already. Harrington's father is taking off in his car, his son watches him getting out and flips the car off.  
  
Jesus. Billy knows absolutely _no one_ who would get away with that.  
  
"Hey, kiddo," Hopper looms in the Melvald's doorway.  
Billy's stuck behind him, unseen from the outside.  
  
Harrington turns around, angry frown on his face.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Come here," the Chief urges him, voice not mad, but firm, the one you _don't_ want to mess with.  
  
The one _normal_ people don't want to mess with anyway. Y'know, those who have such thing as _survival instinct_ and shit like that.  
  
"No," Harrington glares at him, dribbling the ball with a loud sound.  
  
"Listen, kid..."  
  
"_No!_ I'm sick of people telling me what to do. Fuck..._fuck off, Hop_," the boy winces the moment these words fall out of his mouth, but his stubborn frown only deepens.  
  
Hopper's back tenses immediately. Billy doesn't want to stay and watch what happens next. He's had _enough_.  
  
"Steve," he gets out, standing near Hopper, and gives the boy a furious look.  
  
Harrington's eyes widen, his lips part.  
  
"Get your ass _here_."  
  
The boy looks startled, eyes darting around, but he's obviously gone _too far_ to just stop or give up that easily.  
  
So he shakes his head stubbornly.  
  
"N-no. I don't need another scolding today."  
  
Oh yeah, you're in a desperate need of something _entirely_ else.  
  
Billy clenches his fists, fixing him with a glare, Hopper tensed and angry by his side.  
  
Harrington glares at them in return, biting his lower lip, but doesn't move an inch, just keeps playing with the fucking ball.  
  
"I said. _Come_. _Here_," Billy tells him one more time, and it's not even the _warning_ anymore.  
  
Anyone in their right mind would stop fighting now.  
  
"_No!_" Harrington shouts, throwing the ball angrily.  
  
His swing is _too_ strong though, and he stays _too_ close to the store. Because the next moment he sends the ball right into the Melvald's window, shattering the glass.  
  
Everything _freezes_ for a moment.  
  
Billy looks at the broken window, stunned. Hopper inhales sharply near him. There are some scandalized voices from the inside of the store. Billy turns his look back to Harrington.  
  
The boy freezes, terrified, the deer in the headlights look on. Then he does the absolute _dumbest_ thing. He takes off running down the street.  
  
Apparently he doesn't remember that Billy's way, _way_ faster than him.  
  
He catches him in a matter of seconds, grabbing his collar and shaking him hard. Harrington's got shallow breathing.  
  
Hopper approaches them, and everything in his demeanor is making Billy gulp.  
  
If he thought that the Chief seemed ready to pull Harrington over his knee back then at the pool, then it's just _nothing_ compared to how he looks _now_.  
  
Billy puts Harrington behind himself, holding him firmly and shielding him from Hopper's anger.  
  
Yeah, he's gonna _get it_, no doubt, but he's gonna get it from _Billy_. Because only he knows how to _handle_ him. Because he's _his_.  
  
Hopper fixes them with a truly murderous look before letting out a growl.  
"My car. Both of you. Wait there."  
  
He throws his keys to Billy and turns on his hill, going to the store.  
  
Billy catches the keys, letting out a relieved sigh and watching Hopper almost admirably.  
  
Then he turns back to Harrington, snapping.  
"Move it."  
  
"I want my basketball back," the bastard has the _nerve_ to glare at him.  
  
Just how much _patience_ does he think Billy has left?!  
  
"_Really_, pretty boy? You gonna push it further?"  
  
"I want my ball back!" there are angry tears pooled in his eyes though, like he just can't let the fight go.  
  
Billy fixes him with his most stern look, setting his jaw. It finally works. He doesn't even need to say anything, Harrington probably sees _something_ in his eyes, so the next time he tugs him on his collar the boy caves in.  
  
Billy practically throws him in the backseat, climbing in quickly after him.  
  
"You've _really_ done it this time," he growls, buckling the boy in and resting his hand on the back of his neck.  
  
If he decides to run away again, which he really might, it will be harder this way.  
  
"No," Harrington croaks out, his voice wavering. "I don't give a _fuck_."  
  
He doesn't sound convincing even to himself. He's scared, Billy can tell it from how his whole body's shaking. Scared and struggling to stop, because stopping means facing the _consequences_, and well, it's _not_ something anyone would look forward to right now.  
  
"Oh _yeah_? We'll _see_," Billy promises the boy darkly. "Keep digging yourself a deeper hole I guess."  
  
Harrington scoffs angrily, but it's kinda ruined by Hopper getting in the car.  
  
The Chief gets in the driver's seat and turns around with the most dangerous look on his face.  
  
Even Billy finds himself swallowing hard, and he's _not_ the one who this look's aimed at. Harrington looks like he has problems breathing.  
  
"_Don't yell_," Billy blurts out before he can even form the polite phrase.  
  
Hopper looks at him, eyes wide and pissed.  
  
"Maybe I should give him a _badge_ for this behavior and _pat him on the head_?!"  
  
"No, just," Billy sighs, wincing and shooting the cop a serious look. "Just don't yell at him. _Please_."  
  
Hopper lets out the loudest sigh, shaking his head and muttering to himself something like _'unbelievable'_.  
  
It's silent in the car for a couple of seconds, and then Joyce gets in the passenger seat.  
  
"We're going to our house," she declares calmly to Hopper.  
  
"But..."  
  
"_Hop_," she cuts him off with a pointed look. "We're going to _ours_. C'mon, start driving."  
  
The Chief pinches the bridge of his nose, mutters 'unbelievable' again, only quieter this time, and starts the car.  
  
Joyce turns to the backseat, looking at them. There's a frown on her face, and it's probably the _first_ time Billy sees her kinda stern. He wonders how she manages to keep this calm though.  
  
Harrington hangs his head, ears turning dark red.  
  
Joyce sighs and gives Billy a bottle of water and Harrington's basketball. The boy's eyeing it. Yeah, _no way_ you're getting it right now, buddy.  
  
"Thanks," Billy shoots Joyce a grateful look and puts the ball to his feet.  
  
He takes a sip and gives the bottle to Harrington.  
  
"Drink. Now."  
  
The boy takes the water without any word and drinks slowly.  
  
The car's dead silent, but then Joyce turns the radio on, and _Cyndi fucking Lauper_ blasts in. She gleefully sings about girls wanting some _fucking fun_, in _Hopper's_ car, with both adults frowning in the front and Harrington looking like a scared, but still bratty kid.  
Billy feels like he's in some really, _really weird_ movie.  
  
He looks at Harrington, squeezing the back of his neck. Not in a caressing way, just to let the boy know that he's here, yeah, he's beyond pissed, but he's _here_.  
  
He can feel the fight dissipating from the boy, his posture becoming more miserable than angry, fingers trembling, curled around the bottle.  
  
There are tiny wet spots on his jeans-clad knees, and when Billy looks at his face, Harrington wipes his eyes and nose with a back of his hand, trying to be subtle about it and failing.

***

When the car stops near Byers' house, Harrington clutches onto the seat's edge for dear life. Billy's almost sure he hears his heart's beating like a _rabbit_.  
  
The house looks peaceful, with fresh laundry hung in the yard and the swings on the porch waiting for someone to get on it.  
  
Byers' fluffy dog is lounging on the porch too, looking _chill as fuck_. Billy's kinda _envious_.  
  
It's altogether the nicest little house, but if you need to go in there and face the consequences of what you've just done, yeah, it can be pretty _terrifying_.  
  
Hopper makes a move to get out, but Joyce grabs his hand.  
  
"_No_. We're going to that fancy place you wanted to take me out to," she tells him firmly, then turns around and gives Billy the keys from the house.  
  
The wave of relief and gratefulness washes over him. He hopes his smile _screams_ 'thank you'.  
  
"What?!" Hopper looks incredulous. "I've got a _little problem_ to fix here."  
  
He nods to Harrington, and Billy hears the boy's breath hitching.  
  
"No," Joyce looks Hopper in the eye. "Let them fix it. You can talk later. Just cool off a bit first."  
  
"But it's not even evening yet," Hopper blinks at her.  
  
"I don't get it, Hop, I thought you wanted to take me out somewhere _fancy_, without the kids horsing around..."  
  
_"Yes!"_  
  
Billy sees the flush creeping up the Chief's neck and stifles his smirk.  
  
"Okay, okay, _sure_, we're going to Enzo's," Hopper takes his hat off, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Sure. _Why not._ Christ."  
  
"Good," Joyce smiles at him and turns to Billy, giving him a look.  
  
He gets it without any word.  
  
"Wait for me on the porch," he tells Harrington, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door.  
  
He knows for a fact the boy wouldn't run away now.  
  
Harrington gets out with his eyes on the ground, not saying a word, and drags his feet to the porch.  
  
"There's no one in the house," Joyce tells Billy, squeezing his hand. "If you need more privacy, you can go to Will's room to talk."  
  
_Talk._ Yeah. _Sort of._  
  
"Thank you," Billy sighs, giving her a small grateful smile.  
  
They all turn to the window, watching Harrington sitting on the porch and cuddling with the dog. They are literally _hugging_, the boy's hands petting the fluffy fur, the dog licking his cheeks.  
  
Given other circumstances it would be the most heartwarming picture ever. It _still_ kinda makes them all stifle a smile.  
  
"He's a good boy," Joyce says quietly.  
  
"He _is_," Billy agrees with her and watches Harrington hiding his face in the dog's fur.  
  
The Chief rolls his eyes.  
"Oh yeah, _right_. The poster boy. I swear to God, the teenagers in this town are gonna be the death of me."  
  
"Aw, stop _complaining_, c'mon, go sweep me off my feet," Joyce smacks him on the hand, making Billy grin.  
  
"Have fun," he smiles at them and gets out of the car.  
  
The Chief takes off, speeding away.  
  
Billy lets out a heavy sigh and goes to the porch.  
Harrington's still glued to the dog. Billy gives the dog a scratch on the head, getting a wet nose nuzzling his palm in return. Harrington doesn't dare to look up at him.  
  
"Get up," Billy orders him. "Maybe you can play with the pup later. We'll see."  
  
The boy scrambles to his feet. Now that's _better_.  
They get inside, leaving the dog lounging in the sun, no single worry in the world.  
  
The house smells of fresh bread, cigarettes, coffee and laundry detergent. There are some comic books and colored pencils scattered around, a green plaid shirt, obviously Hopper's, is thrown on the armchair, and there are a couple of mugs with tea left on the little table, next to some unfinished drawing.  
  
The place isn't pristine or posh _at all_, but it's kinda what makes it _warm_ and homey and sweet.  
  
A lot of the details are exactly the same like they were that horrid November night. But the more Billy comes here the more it fades away, and he's _beyond_ _grateful_ for that. He'd _never_ imagined back then in November that he'd come here like this. _Like now._  
  
He looks at the boy beside him. Harrington's all tensed, his breathing erratic. He's definitely trying not to show how _anxious_ he is.  
  
Billy fills a couple of glasses with water at the kitchen and gives the boy a helpful push to Will's room.  
He stumbles but obeys without a word.  
  
Billy smirks at the 'No trespassing' sign on the door, then opens it and nods to Harrington to get in.  
  
Will's room is soaked in sunshine even through the curtains, warm and surprisingly not terribly messy.  
  
There are many books and the desk is littered up with drawings and colored pencils. Billy wonders just how many this kid owns, as well as how much he draws. That's _admirable_, honestly. The kid's got the talent.  
  
There's also a record player, a cool Jaws poster, several pictures, apparently taken by Jonathan, and even a few stuffed animals. It's really a nice and cozy kid room.  
  
Billy looks at Harrington and catches him touching the little stuffed bear _carefully_, fingers brushing the toy's plush fur, as if the boy's trying to anchor himself with a little bit of _comfort_. He finds himself sighing.  
  
_"Steve."_  
  
The boy's finally brave enough to look him in the eye. He looks so _small_ and _scared_, guilty too, with his doe eyes huge and shining with tears. Billy's chest aches.  
  
The boy's not quiet that stubborn pain in the ass anymore, he looks innocent and _helpless_ and fragile again.  
  
Billy remembers how the Biology teacher once told them that animal cubs got their adorable looks and huge eyes for a reason, it's the nature's way to _protect_ them, to show everyone that they're _harmless_ and even if they do something wrong the others still treat them differently than adults.  
  
He fucking _sees_ how that works now. He looks into these big eyes and thinks about how Harrington's his _good boy_, soft and gentle and _kind_, and how all he wants to give him is _comfort_.  
  
Unfortunately, it's _not_ what's needed right now though. The boy's got _zero_ respect for any boundaries and that's, that's the _danger_ right here. Just setting the rules isn't enough. The whole point is in making sure he's actually _fucking following_ them. And when he's _not_, well. It's not the time to be _soft_.  
  
Even those adorable cubs get punished for their misbehavior, in the wilderness or not.  
  
Billy fixes Harrington with a stern glare, feeling his own mood shift already.  
  
"Put the toy back," he tells him harshly, the boy's shoulders flinching. "Come here and sit on the bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems like someone's in deep shit ugh?


	7. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know fucking firsthand what it's like to act out of anger. To take it out on other people," he gives Harrington a bitter look. "I know firsthand how it ruins fucking everything. I know how hard it is to fix it.  
Because turns out you're always responsible for how you act, regardless of how you feel."
> 
> The boy's quiet, looking at his feet.
> 
> "So no way in hell I'm letting you act out like this, Steve," Billy tells him harshly. "I'm gonna discipline you so hard for this you're gonna remember this lesson for the rest of your life."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. It's a punishment.  
⚠️  
And it's probably a ruthless one like Billy promised. But he keeps it safe too. Hurt\comfort is here too ofc.  
👀  
And I'm actually beyond anxious to post it, so pretty please, comment what you think? (While I run away to hell knows where from how nervous I am)

He's never seen Harrington sitting so _still_ for such a long time. The boy's quiet too, eyes staring at the floor like there's something _extremely _important there.  
  
Billy notices how his fingers are fiddling with the jeans on his knees, wrinkling the fabric nervously.  
  
He takes a chair and straddles it, giving the boy a piercing stare.  
  
"Eyes up here," it's a _command_, and Harrington looks up at him hesitantly.  
  
Billy waits for him to maybe say something, like, an apology would be _nice_, but the boy's just frowning, scared and defiant at the same time.  
  
Oh well. So we _still_ have the fight left in there. _Nice._  
  
"Before we get to the _point_," Billy tells him thoughtfully, fingers drumming on the back of the chair. "You tell me what the fuck was that with your old man."  
  
Yeah. They're gonna start from here.  
  
Harrington keeps quiet, licking his lips and gulping nervously.  
  
"I just mean," Billy shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "I _strongly_ recommend you tell me all you need _before_ I deal with you."  
  
The last words carry the dark promise in them, making Harrington shudder. He squirms a bit before spilling the beans.  
  
_Of fucking course._  
  
"He said he wants me to spend a day with him," the boy speaks quietly, looking at his own hands. "And, _God_. I, I thought maybe...maybe it would be like..."  
  
Billy winces in sympathy, getting what the boy wants to say. Maybe it would be like they could have some _father and son_ quality time.  
  
"Like we're _family_ or something. God. So _stupid_."  
  
There's so much hurt in his words that Billy decides to cut in.  
  
"S' not stupid, pretty boy. S' _normal_."  
  
"As if anything could _ever_ be normal with my parents," Harrington huffs bitterly. "I knew I was _screwed_ the moment I got into his car. He's got this look, y'know..."  
  
He makes an unimpressed face, pursed lips and furrowed brow. He does a poor job of it to be honest, with those doe eyes and boyish cuteness, but Billy gets the impression. It must've been the ultimate _intimidating dad face_.  
  
"He didn't even tell me where we're going. Just kept grilling me all the fucking way about this idiotic shit, like, _'who stole three bottles of whiskey from my bar, Steven'_ and _'who got the car scratched'_ and _'who broke the garage door and stained the carpet in the living room'_," Harrington snorts, waving his arms. "Like, it's _obvious_ it's all me, who else could do it, _fucking Gizmo_? But _no_, he just _had_ to see me squirming and explaining myself and so on."  
  
And Billy understands, all of those things are probably annoying as hell to Harrington's parents, and he's sure the boy stole _way_ more bottles from the bar - but the point is, what were they expecting?  
  
They've got a _teenage son_, for fucks sake, who's living alone unsupervised for _months_. Of course there would be things like that.  
  
And honestly, that probably deserves a scolding, but he's their _only_ child, and they're leaving tonight for another shitload of time, and wasting the day on _this_ instead of trying to bond with your son? Oh yeah. Dads are fucking _awesome_.  
  
"Go on," he sighs.  
  
"We've got to the restaurant and I was ready to run away," Harrington frowns. "And if you think we were there to fucking _eat_ you're _sorely_ mistaken. Turned out my dad was having a meeting with some other douchebag business partner of his. And turned out that partner has a _daughter_ about my age."  
  
Billy has an unsettling feeling where is it going, thinking about rich dads playing matchmakers, but Harrington _surprises_ him.  
  
"Would you guess _who's_ that girl?"  
  
What? Billy just stares at him dumbly.  
  
"One of the bitches I spilled the _coke_ on at the movies back then. Remember?"  
  
Oh shit.  
  
"So _of fucking course_ she ratted me out to her daddy," Harrington makes a face, angry and disgusted. "Because _of fucking course_ she knew who I am."  
  
Well, duh. Who doesn't know _King Steve_, even if he's not crowned anymore. What an _asshole_ though.  
  
"And her dad ratted me out to _my_ dad. Yesterday at the dinner," the boy winces, his voice bitter. "But my dad didn't tell me a _thing_. He just fucking _brought_ me there today _specifically_, so I _apologize_ to the girl and her father."  
  
He sounds so hurt and _betrayed_.  
  
"He didn't even give me a fucking _warning_! All three of them just _stared_ at me and enjoyed the fucking show!"  
  
Billy sets his jaw, his fists clenched. He bets that little bitch was having the time of her life. _Steve Harrington's_, of all people, apologizing to her.  
  
"He didn't even _listen_ to me," Harrington spits out. "Just kept staring and told me to apologize, like I'm fucking _five_!"  
  
Billy remembers that lizard stare and grimaces. He feels sorry for the boy. Of course he _had_ to apologize and...  
  
"I fucking _didn't_. Just refused to apologize. You should've seen their _faces_," Harrington smirks. "I admitted I did it _on purpose_ and told them she _knows_ what for. Told them I'm gonna say sorry only if she does it _first_. To Robin, I mean, not to me, of course."  
  
Billy just stares at him. Harrington is _wild_.  
  
"Wow, pretty boy," he shakes his head. "You're definitely _something_."  
  
Harrington gives him a sad lopsided smile.  
  
"No one listened to me though. This bitch was playing this _good girl_ card, like she has _zero_ idea what I'm talking about. Should've seen her. All _innocent_, white dress, looking like she's, I dunno, _Nance_!"  
  
Well, who's surprised. Girls like these _always_ know how to play their cards.  
  
"And, like, I don't give a _fuck_ about her father. But _my_ dad - I'm his _son_, and he believes some random girl he sees for the _first time_ in his life!"  
  
Harrington waves his arms so wildly he almost hits Billy in the face.  
  
"So I just thought _fuck it_ and went out. But he made me get back into the car and started driving home. I tried to tell him it's _not fair_, but - _surprise_ \- he didn't listen to me, just kept telling me how _disappointed_ he is, how awful my _grades_ are, how I've got a family _reputation_ to uphold, how I'm upsetting my mom who _supposedly_ wanted these two days they're here to be normal _family time_, but I _ruin_ everything with my behavior, and that's when I _lost_ it."  
  
Billy pinches the bridge of his nose. Yeah. Leave it to parents to fuck everything up.  
  
"I tried to, like, zone out, took the ball in my hands and messed around with it," Harrington sighs, shrugging. "But then I fucking _lost it_. He stopped at the traffic lights and I just got out and started walking. He got out too, all pissed off, and kept telling me to get back in the car. And I told him... Oh God, I told him fucking _everything_. How he can _go and_ _fuck himself_ with his _reputation_ and _family time_ and everything, because it's _not_ even a family."  
  
He bites his lips, looking up at Billy.  
  
"People kept giving us funny looks, and, like, remember about the _reputation_, y'know, so my dad just got in his car and went home I guess," the boy cringes. "And then..._well_, you know the rest."  
  
Billy lets out a heavy sigh.  
  
"Your dad's being a total _douchebag_," he admits.  
  
"Grade A asshole," Harrington huffs. "I know."  
  
"M' sorry this happened, pretty boy," Billy gives him a sympathetic look. "He should've listened to you. And you're _not_ ruining anything. _Never_."  
  
"Thanks," he sighs, smiling a little.  
  
Billy looks at him, thinking. He kinda gets now why Harrington was defying everything. The boy obviously wants to show everyone he's all _big_ and _grown up_ and _independent_, no one's the _boss_ of him.  
  
Funnily enough, he acts _exactly_ like a kid, a difficult little brat he _is_.  
  
And, well, what his dad did _sucks_, but it's not an _excuse_. Harrington's about to find out _what_ happens to the kids like these.  
  
Billy fixes him with a look, the boy's squirming, a stubborn frown on his face.  
  
"Now that we've talked about your dad, let's have a chat about _your own_ behavior," he tells him in a low, dangerous voice.  
  
"_No_," Harrington crosses his arms, glowering at him.  
  
_No?_ Seriously? Billy counts to ten in his head, infuriated.  
  
"We _both_ know that you fucked up _royally_, Steve," he growls. "And we _both_ know _what's_ going to happen now."  
  
"Nooo," Harrington whines, stomping his foot. "I don't _want_ it!"  
  
There's panic in his eyes though.  
  
"_Hush_," Billy cuts him off, finally running out of patience. "I'm not talking about what you _want_, Steve. I'm talking about what you _need_. And you're fucking _begging_ for a good punishment. Been pushing me all this week. And _today_ \- where do I even _start_. Tell me how many _rules_ you've broken?"  
  
"S' all my _dad's_ fault," Harrington keeps glowering at him.  
  
"Oh _really_?" Billy lets out a dry laugh. "Because I don't remember _him_ mouthing the Chief off or deliberately disobeying me."  
  
"I was _mad_!" Harrington yells at him, but then _something_ in Billy's eyes distinctly makes him regret it.  
  
"Oh, you were _mad_, I see," Billy gives him a smile which is full of teeth. "_Sure_, the rules don't apply to times like these, yeah?"  
  
His tone _definitely_ makes Harrington uncomfortable, but he doesn't give up the fight.  
  
"I didn't even _mean_ to break this stupid window!"  
  
"I'm not talking about the _window_, pretty boy. And while we're at it, yeah, I know. But that's _exactly_ what happens when you don't know when to _stop_. That's what happens when you're _not listening_ and being a _shit_ to people who fucking _care_ about you. Just because you're _angry_, huh."  
  
And damn, doesn't Billy know it better than _anyone_. He winces, flooded with _memories_.  
  
"I know fucking _firsthand_ what it's like to act out of anger. To take it out on _other people_," he gives Harrington a bitter look. "I know firsthand how it ruins _fucking everything_. I know how _hard_ it is to fix it. Because turns out you're _always_ responsible for how you _act_, regardless of how you _feel_."  
  
The boy's quiet, looking at his feet.  
  
"So no way in _hell_ I'm letting you act out like this, Steve," Billy tells him harshly. "I'm gonna discipline you _so_ hard for this you're gonna remember this lesson _for the rest of your_ _life_."

Harrington _shudders_ but still keeps silent. _Stubborn asshole._

"Y'know, I could just _bend you over_ and deal with you, pretty boy. M' not gonna do it though. You know _perfectly well_ what you've done wrong. You _know_ what you deserve. So get your shit together," Billy gets up from the chair, fucking _furious_.  
  
He just wants to look out of the window and calm down a bit, but the next moment there's a hand clutching his own.  
  
"No, _please_!" Harrington looks at him, eyes _terrified_ and pleading, clinging to Billy for dear life. "Please, Billy, _don't go_, please, I won't, _I won't do that again_, I _promise_, just, just, _please_!"  
  
Billy blinks at this stuttering, then holds the boy firmly by his shoulders, looking him in the eye.  
  
"M' not going _anywhere_, Steve," he tells him in a calming voice. "I _promised_ you. M' _here_. M' _never_ leaving you alone."  
  
Harrington looks at him all unsure, so Billy sits back, just to calm him down. Seems like no looking out of the window for him.  
  
The boy wrings his hands, glancing up at him nervously.  
  
"I, I messed up."  
  
_Now we're talking._  
  
"Go on," Billy crosses his arms and fixes him with a stern glare.  
  
There's a sharp inhale, and the boy speaks up.  
  
"I was _rude_ and mouthed Hop off. Broke the window too, but it was, it was on accident! And I tried to run away then. Also _lied_ to you that I don't give a fuck about all of it. And, like, was _defying_ everything. And I _disobeyed you_. Multiple times," Harrington looks kinda impressed by his track record, his voice tiny.  
  
Well, that _really_ is impressive.  
  
"Looks like a pretty _big_ mess to me, huh, Stevie boy?" Billy nods grimly. "So tell me, how many rules you've broken?  
  
"_Three_," the boy mutters. "Being respectful to people who matter, n-no lying and, and always listening to you."  
  
"M-hm. Out of the fucking _four_ you have," Billy tells him, furious. "And I'm not even mentioning that you could've injured yourself and others with the shattered glass. Means _danger_. So might as well be _all four_."  
  
Harrington hangs his head, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. Billy watches him, nodding.  
  
"So what do you believe you _deserve_ for this behavior, hm, Steve?"  
  
The boy keeps silent, his mouth in the stubborn pout again.  
  
Jesus, it's fucking _exhausting_.  
  
"Y'know, it's getting _worse_ all this time while you're keeping this _attitude_," Billy tells him conversationally. "You sure your ass can take _that_ much, huh?"  
  
Harrington flinches at his words, glancing at Billy in fear and trying to get himself together.  
  
"I deserve a...a _p-punishment_," he croaks out finally, voice barely audible.  
  
His cheeks immediately turn _oh so red_.  
  
"Oh, that you _definitely_ do," Billy hums in affirmation. "And that's _exactly_ what you're going to get right now."  
  
He looks around, deciding where he wants him. Over the desk would be convenient if it wasn't all covered in drawings and pencils. So the bed it is.  
  
"Okay. Let's get it over with," Billy gets up and starts unbuckling his belt.  
  
It's a _sheer luck_ today's chillier than usual and he put on his jeans instead of the shorts, belt included. Not _Harrington's_ luck though. Although it wouldn't get him out of his punishment anyway.  
  
The boy's breath hitches as he watches Billy unbuckling his belt and pulling it out of the loops.  
  
"Now," Billy demands his attention, voice firm. "Remember your _safe word_?"  
  
"Yes," Harrington's whisper is barely audible.  
  
"_Well_? Tell me?"  
  
"Nougat."  
  
"Repeat."  
  
"_Nougat_," he breathes out again, voice wavering a bit.  
  
"Good," Billy gives him a nod. "Use it if you need to - like we've discussed, if things become too intense and you can't take it. _Got it_?"  
  
"Yes," Harrington whispers, swallowing hard.  
  
Well, that's it.  
  
Billy gives him a nod, folding his belt in half and testing it on his palm. Jesus, that's gonna sting _for real_.  
  
"Up, and undo your jeans."  
  
Harrington doesn't move an inch, looking up at him with his huge, sad and helpless puppy eyes. _Nope._ Not gonna work, buddy.  
  
Billy gives him a stern look.  
  
"You _know_ what happens when you act out, Steve. I've _warned_ you. There are _always_ consequences, and if you're not used to it, better learn _now_," he sighs. "I know it's _scary_. But you need to be brave and take the _responsibility_ for your actions."  
  
The boy _still_ doesn't move. Billy's ready to _snap_ when he speaks quietly.  
  
"_Billy?_" Harrington's voice is small and scared.  
  
"What?" he crosses his arms, looking at the boy sternly.  
  
"Will you...will you really _cuddle_ me..._after_?"  
  
"After's _after_, Steve," Billy's harsh voice makes the boy flinch, his shoulders trembling.  
  
Harrington hangs his head. Billy sees his lashes fluttering rapidly, the boy's _definitely_ trying to blink away the tears.  
  
Billy lets out a sigh.  
  
"M' _always_ keeping my word, pretty boy, and you _know_ it," he tells him roughly. "So _yes_. I'm gonna punish you _hard_. And _yes_. You're gonna get your _cuddles_ afterwards."  
  
Harrington lets out a little sniff, quiet a miserable one, and seems to be mustering up all his courage.  
  
Billy simply waits, letting him to take his time. It's his first proper punishment after all.  
  
The boy gets up in a couple of minutes, eyes still downcast, shoulders slumped.  
  
Billy watches his fingers _tremble_ as he struggles to undo his jeans, fumbling with the button. When he manages to do it, he just stays there, like he has _no idea_ what's next.  
  
"Well, _go on_. Jeans off, just drop 'em to your knees. Bend over the bed, feet on the floor."  
  
Harrington pulls the tight jeans down hesitantly, just a tiny bit, so his white Calvin Klein waistband's showing, when Billy adds grimly.  
  
"_Boxers too_."  
  
There's a sharp inhale, and the boy gives him a deer in the headlights look again, but quickly lowers his eyes and turns around, facing the bed.  
  
He drops his jeans and boxers to his knees, _like Billy told him_, and quickly lays at the requested spot, face buried in the bed.  
  
His ears are dark red and no doubt his face is too, as if Billy's never seen his _ass_ naked, _for fucks sake_. It's still kinda _different_, of course.  
  
He watches the boy closely, feeling kinda sorry for him. It's gonna hurt _a lot_. But well, he's gotta _learn his lesson_.  
  
Harrington's pastel polo rides up and there's a tan line, the clear difference between the golden color of his back and the milky skin that's normally covered by his swimming shorts.  
  
Somehow it makes him look even _more vulnerable_.  
  
Billy thinks about how it _won't_ be milky in just a couple of minutes.  
  
"I want you to lay _still_," he tells the boy, coming closer. "No moving. _Plant your feet_. Am I _clear_?"  
  
"Y-yes," Harrington's whisper sounds unsure as _fuck_, but Billy's gonna deal with one thing at a time.  
  
"Good."  
He snaps the belt. The sound's so _painfully_ loud it makes him wince.  
  
Harrington shudders, holding onto the bed for dear life.  
  
"We're gonna start now," Billy watches him, deciding to double check _just in case_. "Remember about the safe word?"  
  
"I'm not _dumb_," the boy snaps, visibly regretting his tone the next moment, his whole body tensing.  
  
Billy tries his _hardest_ to stay calm and not get angry.  
  
"Well, mouthing me off when you're _already_ getting punished seems like a _really_ dumb idea to me," he tells him, laying the belt on his ass in a warning of _what's_ going to happen next moment. "But we're gonna fix this attitude of yours, pretty boy."  
  
He raises the belt and lets it fall on his ass, leaving a slightly pink mark.  
  
Harrington lets out a choked sound and hides his face in his hands.  
  
Billy lands the blows, keeping a steady pace and watching the boy.  
  
Harrington still has some _fight_ left in him apparently, because he tries to make no sound, gritting his teeth. Which is kinda _stupid_.  
  
It's not going to last _long_ though, so Billy doesn't even react to it.  
  
Soon enough there's _gasping_, then _hissing_, and then the boy starts letting out pitiful _whines_.  
  
Billy lets the belt fall _heavier_, and Harrington starts to squirm, trying to wrench away from the blows.  
  
"Stay _still_ and _take_ it," Billy tells him off, punctuating his words with a hit. "You know you _deserved_ it."  
  
The boy whines loudly and visibly tries his hardest to stay put, but _fails_ and keeps squirming and kicking.  
  
"What did I tell you about _planting your feet_?!"  
  
"_Hurts_!" Harrington lets out a pitiful whimper.  
  
"Did I ask for an excuse? _We've barely started_," Billy barks, landing more blows only to see him kick again. "Do I have to _hold_ you now?"  
  
Harrington looks at him, turning his head, eyes already full of _tears_.  
  
"I asked you a question, Steve," Billy snaps. "Have you forgotten all your _manners_ today?"  
  
The boy's lip's quivering when he whispers his answer.  
  
"M' sorry, Billy, sorry, _p-please_?"  
  
"Please _what_?"  
  
"_H-hold_," he hiccups miserably, face getting all scrunched up in embarrassment and fear.  
  
Billy sighs, suddenly understanding how _scary_ it might be, laying here at his mercy, trying to comply with his order but failing and obviously _angering_ him.  
  
"Okay, pretty boy" he tells the boy calmly, pinning him to the bed with the hand on his trembling back. "I'll hold you."  
  
So that's exactly what he does, holding him in place securely and delivering hard blows, reddening the skin more and more.  
  
Harrington lets out little whimpers and whines non-stop, tears obvious in his voice.  
  
After a while there's a sniffle and a miserable voice.  
  
"Owww, _no more_, please no more," _of course_, the begging comes out next. "_Stooop_."  
  
Billy lands a _harder_ blow, making the boy cry out loud.  
  
"Guess you're not in the _position_ to make _demands_, pretty boy," he tsks. "S' _me_ who decides when you've had enough. Got it?"  
  
Harrington just starts crying openly, going from whimpers to the full-blown sobbing.  
  
"_Answer me_," Billy demands, punctuating his words with the belt.  
  
"Ahh! G-got it, Billy!" the boy sobs, sounding miserable.  
  
Billy lets the belt fall _harder_, landing on the boy's skin with loud slaps. Harrington lets out a scream, clawing at the blanket under him and crying uncontrollably.  
  
And damn, maybe Billy shouldn't ask after he did it fucking _twice_ already, but screw it, he has to check on his boy.  
  
"Gonna use your safe word?"  
  
Harrington shakes his head, mussing up his hair.  
  
"_No_," he's crying saying it, but he sounds like he means it.  
  
He's definitely struggling, but determined to take _everything_ that Billy gives him.  
  
Billy nods. He was right. Harrington's a _strong_ boy. The guy's a _fighter_ after all.  
  
"Okay," he tells him, continuing with the punishment.  
  
The boy can't stop himself from begging though, even if it's pointless.  
  
"Oww Billy _please_! Will be _good_!"  
  
"Oh I _bet_," Billy agrees. "You're gonna be an _angel_ after I finish with you."  
  
Harrington sobs, letting out a string of promises to be good.  
  
"Why don't we repeat what we're _learning_, hm, Steve?"  
  
"Ahhh!"  
  
"You're _not_ breaking your _rules_ just because you're having a bad day," Billy tells him sternly, punctuating his words with harsh relentless slaps. "You're _not_ being rude to people who _care_ about you and want only the _best_ for you. You're _not_ defying them and _fighting_, especially when you're _already_ in trouble. And you're _never ignoring my direct orders and deliberately disobeying me_!"  
  
Harrington's letting out loud yelps during his speech.  
  
"Do you understand me?"  
  
"Y-yes, _yes_, Billy, m' so-sorry!" his stuttering sounds guilty. "So _sorry_! Won't, _won't_ do it anymore!"  
  
"Oh I'm making _sure_ of it," Billy tells him grimly, continuing with the whipping.  
  
For some time Harrington just sobs, his voice _hoarse_ from all the wailing. Billy doubts he even _hears_ anything besides his own cries, but then there's a _tiny_ voice all of a sudden.  
  
"M' _sorry_, so _sorry_. Shouldn't, shouldn't have hurt you a-and Hop with _mouthing off_ and, and, and should've _obey_ you and should've been _good_, m' sorry, so sorry, Billy, please, _forgive me_," it's all hiccups and quiet stuttering, but he sounds so _genuinely_ upset and guilty, the apology _sincere_.  
  
Seems like he's saying it not to make the spanking stop, but just because he _truly_ wants to say he's sorry. 

Seems like Billy's _finally_ gotten through to him.  
  
"Do you understand it was _wrong_?"  
  
"Yes, Billy, " the boy whimpers, choking on his own sobs, voice tiny, all the traces of fight or resistance gone. "Ve-very, _very_ wrong."  
  
Billy nods, landing heavy blows.  
"Are you going to act like that _again_?"  
  
"No!" Harrington's wailing. "No, no, _nooo_."  
  
Billy lets out a sigh.  
"Not so _bratty_ anymore, are we?"  
  
Harrington shakes his head, clutching onto the bed for dear life.  
  
"S-s-sorry."  
  
"Now, how should've we handled this situation to _not_ get in trouble?"  
  
It's probably about time to wrap things up soon, the boy's seems to be too _fragile_ already. He lets him take a breather.  
  
Harrington's mind must be all blurry, because he thinks for quiet some _time_ and then stutters unsurely.  
  
"Co-come to Hop when he _called_. Not-not mouth him off. _Li-listen_ to you. _Always_. N-no defying."  
  
"That's right," Billy watches him closely, the sight truly _heartbreaking_. "M' gonna give you some _more_ so you learn your _lesson_."  
  
He expects the boy to start begging him to _stop_, but Harrington just nods miserably, trembling, and whispers _'yes, Billy'_ quietly, _complete_ submission and obedience.  
  
Yes, it's _definitely_ time to wrap things up.  
  
He gives him a few hard hits at a quick pace, making sure the lesson _sinks in_.  
  
The boy's not even trying to squirm anymore, just lays and _takes_ everything obediently, bawling his eyes out.  
  
Billy notices how Harrington's shirt under his palm is damp with sweat, as long as the boy's nape and hair. His ass is the _angriest_ shade of red, darker welts appearing.  
  
"The _last ones_," he tells Harrington, a lump in his throat. They also need to be the _hardest ones_.  
  
He gives him the last few blows harsh and _brutal_ with little breaks in between them so the boy can catch a breath.  
  
Harrington cries out loud at every slap.  
  
Billy winces as he lands the last one, the _ruthless_ final slap, the boy's letting out a pitiful _howl_ and breaking down into uncontrollable sobs, his whole body _shaking_.  
  
Billy puts the belt away, hesitating for a tiny moment. The boy cries _so_ hard, face hidden in his shaking hands, it's truly heartbreaking.  
  
He's swallowing hard. What if he's somehow still _overdone_ it? What if the boy's _scared_ of him now? _What if?_  
  
He pushes all of these thoughts aside, getting on the bed and _carefully_ pulling Harrington's boxers back in place. It would sting, but it would sting anyway, and he senses the boy must feel _safer_ like that.  
  
Billy scoops the boy up _gently_, his heart stuttering like crazy.  
  
"_Billy_!" Harrington's cry is pure desperation. "Billy, oh, Billy, _Billy_..."  
  
_Immediately_ there are hands clutching at his tshirt, grabbing the fistfuls of its fabric, holding onto it like it's his _lifeline_.  
  
Those cold claws that were squeezing Billy's heart start to _release_ it. He curses himself for his _stupid_ fears.  
  
"M' _here_, right here, baby, you're so good, _my brave boy_, you did so _good_, such a good boy, shhh, baby, I've got you, _I've got you_," he pulls the boy closer, holding him tight and whispering into his ear.  
  
"Billy," the boy's keeping stammering out his name, like it's the _only_ word that he knows.  
  
He's snuggling up to Billy as close as it's even possible, hands clutching his tshirt as if he's scared Billy's gonna dissipate into thin air.  
  
Billy's almost sure Harrington's gonna tear the thin cotton up, and it's his favorite tshirt, but he doesn't give a _fuck_ right now.  
  
He remembers how the boy grabbed his jacket back then in the woods, desperately and unsurely at the same time, remembers his terrified pleas not to leave him alone, and runs a hand up and down his back in soothing circles.  
  
"M' here, m' here, m' with you, baby, _never leaving you_, never, I _swear_," his own heart's booming wildly.  
  
Harrington nuzzles his neck, crying in earnest, body _shaking_ with hiccups.  
  
"S' okay, baby, you can cry _as much as you need_, m' holding you, _always_ holding you," Billy feels his chest constricting, the overwhelming need to _protect_ the boy in his arms stronger than ever.  
  
He keeps running a hand in soothing circles on his back, rocking him a bit, holding as close as it's possible.  
  
"M' _so sorry_," the boy hiccups into his ear, sounding so upset it's heartbreaking. "So sorry."  
  
"Shh, baby, you're forgiven, you took your punishment _so well_, such a brave boy," Billy assures him, petting his damp hair and pressing lips to his temple.  
  
"Is it...it's _over_?" Harrington tenses a bit in his arms, and there's _so much_ in his tiny whisper.  
  
How he's _scared_ of Billy saying no, of the punishment _still not being over_ yet, and at the same time how he's _submitting completely_, ready to take even _more_ if Billy decides it's _necessary_.  
  
Billy holds him close, wrapping his hands around him, _shielding_ him from the whole world.  
  
"Of course it's _over_, baby boy. All is done. _All is forgiven_. You're my good boy. _The best_. Amazing. So _lucky_ to have you."  
  
He whispers all this sweet stuff non-stop, not even registering the words properly. It seems to be working though, the boy's cries fading away after a while.  
  
Billy moves him a bit carefully, needing to look at his face properly.  
  
Harrington sniffs quietly, looking at him _timidly_ from under his wet lashes and making Billy's heart _miss a beat_.  
  
Billy's got a glimpse of him in this _state_ on that first night, back then in the woods, when he bent him over Camaro's hood.  
  
That was just a _glimpse_ and he gets the _whole picture_ now. The boy's so _open_ and _vulnerable_ he's _never_ seen him like that. His lips are red and puffy from crying, cheeks are all tear-streaked, huge brown eyes searching and so painfully _trusting_.  
  
He clings to Billy like he's his _only_ source of comfort, like he's the _only_ one who can _protect_ him. And yes. Billy will stop at _nothing_ to protect his boy.  
  
Billy combs his messy hair out of his face with his fingers, giving the boy a warm smile and getting an unsure tiny one in return.  
  
"Let me take _care_ of you, yeah," it's not actually a question, but Harrington still nods his head frantically.  
  
Billy reaches out to the glass of water, bringing it to the boy's lips.  
  
"C'mon, baby, drink up," he coaxes him, watching the boy lick his lips and drink obediently. "Such a _good boy_."  
  
He _really_ doubts Harrington wants his jeans on now, so he tugs on them.  
  
"Let's take these off, why don't we, yeah?"  
  
The boy nods, kicking his legs a bit, helping Billy to peel the tight jeans off his legs. Billy briefly thinks about how it's gonna be a pure _torture_ to put them back on, but stores it for later.  
  
The boy's all sweaty, and the _last_ thing he needs is him catching a cold from that. He doubts he gets a chance to make him take a shower right now or at least to go and bring a damp cloth though.  
  
"Why don't we take your shirt off too, baby, s' all damp," he pulls the polo off the boy and does his best to dry him off with it. Okay. It'll do.  
  
He takes his own tshirt off and puts it on Harrington. The boy lets out such a _content_ sigh at that, touching the soft cotton carefully and rubbing his cheek against its sleeve. He's _definitely_ got a thing for Billy's tshirts. Or maybe for Billy's _smell_. Or just for _Billy_ in general.  
  
Billy smiles at him, unable to stifle the warm feeling inside. He makes him drink a bit more, then moves the boy and wraps them both in a blanket, laying back and pulling Harrington on top of him.  
  
The boy's settling on his chest, brushing his cheek against it, hands curled around Billy, clutching at him. He shakes way less now, just trembling a little bit from time to time.  
  
"Gonna be _good_," he promises Billy, peering at him with those baby deer _huge_ eyes, obviously desperate for Billy to trust him.  
  
"Of course," Billy nods, petting his hair and scratching the back of his head. "You're the _best_ boy."  
  
Harrington lets out a relieved sigh, trying to stifle a yawn and failing. He looks so young and _innocent_, really reminding Billy a little kid.  
  
"Why don't you take a nap, pretty boy," he keeps his voice as soft as it's possible.  
  
"_May I_?" Harrington asks, unsure, like he wants to be good so much and isn't sure what he's _allowed_ to do and what not.  
  
Billy's got a lump in his throat.  
"_Of course_, baby."  
  
"You...you'll _stay_?" he asks carefully, almost _scared_, eyes pleading.  
  
Oh Jesus, how can he be so _fragile_? How come it's the _same_ reckless boy who gets in trouble nearly all the time and mouths off and who's generally such a _pain in the ass_? How come it's the same boy who would fight _monsters_ without a second thought or get into a _fight_ if he thinks it's necessary?  
  
Billy looks at Harrington, feeling the overwhelming gentleness inside and suddenly realizing it belongs only to _him_. This side of the boy is here _only_ for him, _too_ raw and fragile for the world. _Too easy to break_.  
  
"Course I'll _stay_, baby. Gonna hold you in your sleep and be here when you wake up, c'mon," Billy ruffles his hair adoringly, smiling.  
  
The boy leans into his touch, seemingly can't get enough of his cuddles, like he's _starving_. Like he's scared it would end any moment and just trying to lap it up while it lasts, while he's _allowed_ to have it.  
  
Billy suddenly thinks about how Harrington _never_ asks for _anything_ from him, except maybe a timid _'cuddles, Billy?'_ from time to time, ready to accept any answer and looking so _happy_ when Billy actually holds him close and caresses him.  
  
How the boy's always ready to give him his _all_, to take whatever Billy decides _fitting_, and never asking for anything, always needing _only him_ and his _affection_, nothing else.  
  
How all he needed to finally muster up his courage to take this harsh punishment was the promise of _cuddles_ from Billy afterwards.  
  
Billy has to blink away the traitorous burn in his eyes, holding his boy _closer_, and caressing his back, and kissing the top of his head, the wave of overwhelming feelings making it's hard to _breathe_.  
  
"You're _my boy_," he whispers hoarsely into his soft hair, not knowing how to express what he _feels_. "_Mine_, right."  
  
"_Yours_," Harrington whispers back, brushing his cheek against his chest again. "Won't..._won't get rid of me_? I'll be good I _promise_. I'll do my _best_. M' _sorry_."  
  
Jesus, as if they haven't gotten this conversation _already_ on that first night.  
  
Billy grips his shoulders, pulling him up so he can look him in the eye.  
  
"I don't want you to _ever_ think shit like that, Steve," he tells him sternly, and shit, maybe it was _too harsh_, the boy's eyes become scared and lost, like he's trying to understand _what has he done wrong_.  
  
He clutches at Billy even _harder_ in panic, as if he's gonna be pushed off and _pleading_ not to do it. His lips tremble, obviously ready to let out a string of pleading 'sorry', but Billy beats him to it, putting a few soft kisses repeatedly on his lips and speaking up again.  
  
"M' not mad, baby boy, _sorry_ that I scared you. _Not mad_, you hear me? You're _good_. S' just I want you to know that I'm never, _never_ getting rid of you. You hear me, Steve?" he gives the boy his _most serious_ look. "You're _my boy_. I _need_ you. Stop thinking you have to be _good_ for being _needed_. I still need you the _same_ when you're bratty. You saw what happens when you misbehave, and that's just it. I punish you because you're _mine_. Because I'm just fixing your attitude and _keeping_ you as mine. _Always_. You understand me? It's _extremely_ important, baby."  
  
Harrington looks at him, eyes wide, soaking his words in and nodding slowly.  
  
"Yes, I, I understand, Billy. I need you too. _So much_," he hides his face in Billy's neck, adding so quietly he barely hears it. "_Thank you_."  
  
He hugs him tight, kissing his neck.  
  
He doesn't know what's broken the boy to the point he thinks he can be gotten rid of like some _toy_, maybe it's his parents treating him like one, maybe something about their breakup with Wheeler happened really ugly and tricked him into thinking like that - _whatever_.  
  
It doesn't even _matter_. It's _Billy's_ job to repair it now.  
  
And _Harrington's_ repairing things for Billy as well. Just somehow _fixing_ the parts of him that were completely fucked up - simply changing it with how he needs _only Billy_, with how he looks at him like he's the _most important person in the world_, with how he says his name like it's the _only word he knows_.  
  
He cuddles the boy closer, holding him and murmuring sweet nonsense into his ear, and rocking him in a soothing way until he relaxes completely, drifting off to sleep, exhausted.  
  
Billy listens to his boy's breath, watches his lashes flutter against his cheeks, keeps caressing his back and feels like his life's exactly how it's _supposed_ to be. However strange it might seem.  
  
Maybe Joyce would know the right words to describe what's going on between him and Harrington, she's so wise she definitely would know _the word_, but he doesn't.  
  
So he just holds _his boy_ close, listening to his heartbeat and keeping him safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👀🙈


	8. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He glances at the boy in his arms gently, suddenly realizing that the dark void inside him, the one that always was either empty or buzzing with anger is not here anymore.
> 
> He's filled with something light and fuzzy instead, like a warmth of sunshine on a first summer morning. Like an ocean wave swinging him on his surfboard, smelling like salt and freedom. Like the moment when his favorite song comes on the radio just in the right moment while he's driving his trusty Camaro, sunset painting the sky pink and lilac.
> 
> It feels like being a good person. Like being needed. Like happiness. Yeah. Definitely happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess we all could use some fluff, whaddaya think?  
Also Jonathan joins us here, and I hope he's at least a tiny bit in character. Oh well.
> 
> Your comments are always making my day, so be so kind, pretty please?
> 
> And also, if you want, here's the soundtrack - listen to _Masterpiece by Madonna_ while reading.  
For the vibe.  
🖤

Taking a nap with Harrington when he's in this headspace is like sleeping with a teddy bear.  
  
Not like Billy would _ever_ admit he remembers what it feels like. He does though.  
  
He was ten when his good old Rodney got lost, and there was no way Neil would ever let his _'grownup'_ son get a plushie. But he still remembers the teddy's soft fur and comforting feeling. He remembers how _safe_ it felt when he was hugging his bear. Even when there was _nothing_ safe about his life.  
  
And damn. Harrington's embrace feels like the _safest_ place on earth. Way better than any teddy bear could ever be.  
  
The boy's warm and cuddly, skin somehow smelling of salty coastal wind and the ocean, even though he's never seen it. His mop of soft brown hair is tickling Billy's bare shoulder, begging his fingers to touch this silk.  
  
Everything about Harrington is oh so gentle, almost _unbearably_ so - the way his red lips part slightly, the way his long lashes tremble a bit, the way his cheeks are pink and tear-streaked.  
  
The way his breath is calm and smelling of something sugary sweet, the bastard must've been eating lollipops in the morning. The way his arms are wrapped around Billy, holding him like he's the _most important person in the fucking world_.  
  
Billy feels the smile creeping onto his face and cannot fight it.  
  
He glances at the boy in his arms gently, suddenly realizing that the dark void inside him, the one that always was either empty or buzzing with anger is _not_ here anymore.  
  
He's filled with something light and fuzzy instead, like a warmth of sunshine on a first summer morning. Like an ocean wave swinging him on his surfboard, smelling like salt and freedom. Like the moment when his favorite song comes on the radio just in the right moment while he's driving his trusty Camaro, sunset painting the sky pink and lilac.  
  
It feels like being a _good person_. Like being _needed_. Like _happiness_. Yeah. Definitely happiness.  
  
Yeah, Harrington might be not the best student - although it's definitely just because the bastard isn't really interested and lacks motivation - but he's acing _way_ more important stuff. Like being _loyal_. Like being _kind_. Like knowing how to love _for real_.  
Wait. Stop. _Love?.._  
  
Billy's thoughts are interrupted by Harrington's little sigh and incoherent mumbling.  
  
Billy chuckles softly, carefully petting his hair. It's weird that the boy's laying so still in his sleep, for the fucking first time not tossing or squirming, making a total mess of the bed as he usually does. Billy doesn't even need to watch his legs to not get kneed in the balls accidentally.  
  
Harrington's completely relaxed now, all pliant and soft and _peaceful_. Yeah, that's the right word, totally peaceful. He looks like he feels safe too.  
  
Billy figures it's just because the boy's gotten the _exact_ kind of care he needs - harsh discipline for his wrongdoings and all the softness afterwards. His ass must hurt like_ hell_, but the punishment definitely seems to have done him the world of good.  
  
Billy smiles, playing with silky brown strands. Well then it's the way things are going to be from now on. Yeah. He knows his boy. He knows how to treat him right.  
  
They lay like this for hell knows how much time. After a while Harrington lets out a tiny whine and squints his eyes, yawning and still looking sleepy as hell.  
  
Just in time though, Billy _really_ needs to use the fucking bathroom, and he promised to be here when the boy wakes up.  
  
"Hey pet," he whispers, unable to hide how adoring he is and making Harrington smile in delight. "Wanna sleep a bit more?"  
  
The boy nods, barely able to keep his eyes open. Exactly what Billy needs.  
  
"Look, I'll go out for a bit. Gonna come back real soon and wake you up. How does that sound?" Billy suggests.  
  
Please say fucking _yes_, pretty boy.  
  
Seems like his prayers are heard, cause the boy blinks at him and nods again.  
  
"Kay. Real soon, yeah?" even his voice is peaceful and thick with sleep.  
  
"Yeah," Billy settles Harrington's head on a pillow carefully, getting out from underneath him and tucking him in. "Now close your eyes and sleep like a good boy."  
  
"Mhm," Harrington simply complies with his words obediently and seems to be asleep next moment.  
  
Billy chuckles and gets out of the bed quickly, making a beeline for the bathroom.  
  
It's not until he gets out of there that he hears the _noise_. It doesn't come from Will's room though. Someone's shuffling through the _kitchen_.

***

"Hi," Jonathan greets him, half-eaten sandwich in his hand.  
  
They stare at each other awkwardly, both rooted to their spots.  
  
He doesn't look _surprised_ to see Billy at his place. His stare is kinda sheepish too. Like he's heard..._things_.  
  
"How _long_ have you been home?" Billy crosses his arms, squinting his eyes at him and going straight to the point.  
  
He's not the one to beat around the bush.  
  
"..._Enough_," Byers admits, his lips twitching.  
  
Yeah. He's _definitely_ heard things. Shit.  
At least he prefers to cut to the chase too. But still, _shit_.  
  
"Look," the guy starts talking, but Billy cuts him off.  
  
"Listen, I dunno what you're _thinking_, but if you gonna give him _shit_ for it..."  
  
"Cut the _crap_, Billy," now he's being cut off by Byers' surprisingly sharp voice. "Do I look like some _asshole_?"  
  
Billy's really tempted to answer 'yes' just to be difficult. He doesn't though, just frowns at Byers.  
  
"Stop giving me your killer glare, it's not working," Jonathan sighs and looks at him all serious. "Look, I'm not gonna give shit. To _any_ of you."  
  
"What, not even gonna freak out on me?" Billy squints at him, unbelieving.  
  
"Nah," Byers shrugs, like it's not a big deal. "Sort of saw this coming. _Long_ _before_ you two thick dumbasses."  
  
Billy just blinks.  
  
"_What_?" he comes closer and plops down on the chair.  
He must be having _hallucinations_.  
  
Byers lets out a long-suffering sigh, like he has to explain the most obvious things.  
  
"I watch people, okay? I see _way_ more than anyone assumes. So when you two started all these _mating dances_ around each other..."  
  
"There weren't any _fucking dances_, Byers, watch your mouth!"  
  
"Whatever," he waves him off. "All this tension whenever you were together in the school corridors was kinda _suffocating_. We decided to let you two dummies figure it out yourselves during the summer, and if you wouldn't, we'd set you up with each other then."  
  
_What._  
  
"We?!"  
  
"Yeah, me and Nancy. She actually didn't want to wait. Glad we did though. Seems like I've won the bet."  
  
"_Wheeler_?!" it would be way more intelligent to ask about the freaking bet.  
  
"You know any _other_ Nancies here?" Byers still looks chill as fuck. "I'm really glad you managed on your own. That matchmaking plan would be a _disaster_."  
  
Billy's kinda curious what _exactly_ that plan involves, but at the same time he kinda better stay _oblivious_.  
  
He pinches the bridge of his nose.  
  
"The _fuck_, Byers. Seems like whole Hawkins is knowing and fucking cheering up," Billy mutters under his breath, kinda annoyed.  
  
Because it can't be real. This small shithole of a town can't be more supportive and accepting than freaking Cali, especially about stuff like _this_.  
  
"It's not," Byers tells him calmly. "Not whole Hawkins. But _friends_ \- yeah."  
  
Billy just blinks at him. He seems to do an awful lot of it. Like he's turning into some fucking _owl_.  
  
"Your friends. _Steve's _and_ yours_."  
  
And shit. No one's allowed Byers to be this fucking _nice_. It's almost too much.  
  
"_Shit_," Billy rubs the back of his neck, absorbing the information. "But still doesn't explain..."  
  
That you're so _chill_ about all these screams and cries which _clearly_ weren't sex?  
  
"Yeah," Byers cuts him off again, munching on his fucking sandwich like they're talking about weather. "Well don't think you're the _only_ one in here who knows..._stuff_."  
  
Billy's brows climb up his forehead.  
  
"I told you, I watch people. _Different_ people. Got a curious mind and read a _lot_ as well, so," the guy looks at him seriously. "I know different stuff. And honestly? You're both like a children book, all pictures, so _easy_ to read."  
  
"We're _not_!"  
  
"Well maybe not to everyone. But honestly, every single time Steve was getting in trouble at school he had this _look_," Jonathan thinks, trying to find the right words. "Like he was waiting for someone to do _something_. Actually, for _you_ to do something. And was becoming more and more _frustrated_ with not getting it."  
  
_What again?!_  
  
"And _you_ were looking like you're _this_ close to do that exact _something_, but were just scared to," Byers gives him a little smile. "Which is _understandable_."  
  
He offers Billy a sandwich. He takes it without even realizing it.  
  
"Jesus, Byers. You're a _creep_."  
  
"Guess you're not scared anymore though," Jonathan tilts his head, giving _zero_ shit about the insult, then winces. "And guess he's _getting_ it now."  
  
Billy sighs, nodding slowly. Byers smiles, and Billy can't even get angry for real, because it's the _same_ kind smile Joyce has. Runs in the family, huh.  
  
He takes a bite of his sandwich. Can't even tell what's in there. Something sweet.  
  
"Is Steve...okay?" Jonathan winces again. "It's just...he was _crying_ so hard. Felt really bad for the guy. Had to put my _earphones_ on. How do you even _manage_... I mean. If it weren't _you_ I'd call cops or something."  
  
Oh yeah. One _tear_ in those Bambi eyes and all these softies in Hawkins are ready to let this boy get away with literally _anything_, for fucks sake. Little spoiled brat. It's okay though. He's got Billy's firm hand to keep him in line now.  
  
"I'm afraid cops, as in Hopper, would be more than glad to do the _exact_ same I did," Billy sighs, watching Byers' puzzled stare. "He's okay, yeah. Better than before I'd say. Gotta wake him up now I guess."  
  
"Maybe," Jonathan waves his hand awkwardly and gives him an unsure look from under his bangs. "Maybe you guys wanna _hang out_? Like, play video games on Will's Atari? I could make you sandwiches too."  
  
Billy just blinks at him, fucking again. Today just _can't_ _stop_ bringing him surprises, can it.  
  
Byers opens his mouth, fidgeting, probably thinking to take his offer back, but Billy cuts him off right away.  
  
"Peanut butter and jam?"  
  
Now it's Jonathan's turn to blink. Fucking _finally_. Then he smiles, crinkles by his eyes.  
  
"We got grape and strawberry."  
  
"M' good with whatever," Billy smirks. "But make strawberry for Harrington? His fave."  
  
He doesn't blush. He does _not_.  
  
"Sure thing," Byers simply nods and opens the fridge. "I'll wait here."

***

Harrington's still asleep, sprawled on his stomach and hugging the pillow. Such a _pretty_ sight.  
  
"Hey, baby boy," Billy nudges him a bit, tickling his side. "Rise and shine."  
  
Harrington just lets out a disgruntled sound, furrowing his brows.  
  
"C'mon, sleeping beauty," he shakes him a bit, chuckling. "Wake up, Stevie."  
  
"Mmm," Harrington whines, rubbing his eyes and squinting at Billy.  
  
He looks...well, Billy refuses to let such words as _adorable_ even exist in his vocabulary. Damn.  
  
Harrington's hair is sticking into every direction, messed up completely, the Farrah Fawcett spray's work ruined.  
  
He's all soft and pink-cheeked, with the evidence of crying _still_ present on his face. The doe eyes track Billy's every move.  
  
Billy watches him closely in return, taking every detail in.  
  
The boy's not as fragile as he was before the nap, but he still kind of _is_. A bit too _quiet_. A bit too _cautious_. A whole lot too _vulnerable_, clinging to Billy like his life depends on him.  
  
And there's probably some weird-ass connection between them, no less weird than El's superpowers or stuff like that, because Billy just _gets_ him.  
  
He can't even explain it to himself, but he just _understands_ it. The same way as he understands why Harrington has never shed a tear while getting beaten the shit out of him in a fight, but was a _sobbing mess_ while Billy was holding him firmly and delivering a punishment.  
  
All this stuff seems to make the boy just let himself _be_. Makes him let himself be _weak_ and _small_ and let someone take _care_ of him. With the way Harrington's been obviously needing it like _air_, but repressing it for the shitload of time - his whole _life_ maybe - it's so good he finally lets this happen now.  
  
Billy remembers Harrington's angry voice on that night at the woods that changed _everything_.  
_'I can't afford being weak'._  
Oh yeah. I'll show you just how _much_ you actually can afford, sweetheart.  
  
He's probably going to be this vulnerable for the rest of the day.  
  
It's not that Billy's going to pity him or stop watching his attitude now - no, the little shit got what he _deserved_ and gonna get more, come _any_ misbehavior.  
  
It's just he needs a _softer_ approach right now.  
  
It's okay though. Billy can be gentle with him. Well, his _own_ version of gentle, but he can - although he'd considered it as going bonkers just a few weeks ago.  
  
But who cares what he'd thought back then, huh. Definitely not him, when those warm doe eyes are watching him with such _trust_. _Definitely_ not him.  
  
"Billy," Harrington breathes out, a hot exhale in the crook of Billy's neck, and looks up at him closely.  
  
His childlike innocence is showing in these big eyes, striking Billy hard and kinda getting him into an overprotective feral mode.  
  
He holds the boy closer, struggling with the need to fucking _bare his teeth_ and glare at all the possible threats. Jeez, Harrington turns him into the fucking wolf or bear or something.  
  
Byers is one lucky bastard. If Billy didn't talk to him already and didn't figure how nice he is, he'd rip him a new one right now. _Just in case_.  
  
And _oh_, about that.  
  
"Jonathan's home," well, Billy's never been the _subtle_ one.  
  
He watches Harrington's reaction closely.  
  
The boy looks content and unbothered at first, but then the realization hits him, bringing the deer in the headlights look back.  
  
"Shh, s' okay, s' okay," Billy soothes him immediately. "He's nice. Won't hurt you, yeah? He's..."  
  
Your friend, he wants to say. _Our_ friend would be probably more accurate though.  
  
"He's a _friend_," Billy settles for this now.  
He pets the boy's back, calming him down, taming him like a wild cub indeed.  
  
"He's actually offered to play some video games. You wanna? Like, _hang out_? Makin us something to eat too. Wanna?"  
  
Harrington nods slowly, still unsure. Embarrassed, probably. Maybe scared.  
  
"He _wouldn't_..."  
  
"_No_," Billy tells him firmly. "He's a friend and you _know_ it, pretty boy."  
  
Harrington thinks for some time, worrying at his lip, and asks hesitantly.  
  
"And the _dog_? You promised I can play with the dog."  
  
Jesus. Smart little bastard.  
He looks at Billy, all hopeful.  
  
"I said _maybe_, pretty boy," Billy corrects him. "S' a _difference_."  
  
Harrington gives him his puppy eyes, all sweet and cute as _shit_. He's fucking _adorable_ and definitely knows it.  
  
The fact that he's basically _asking_ if he's _allowed_ to play with the dog, without even registering it - that's fucking _cute_ though.  
  
"Okay, little shit," Billy sighs. "You can play with the pup too."  
  
Harrington smiles winningly.  
  
Not so fast, baby.  
  
"Because you're going to be a _good boy_, yeah?" Billy asks the boy in his warning tone, giving his ass a little _possessive pat_ and just leaving his heavy palm there. Harrington lets out a tiny _whimper_, but doesn't move. "Learned your lesson, right?"  
  
Harrington's cheeks become dark pink, his eyes a bit helpless, and he immediately nuzzles Billy's neck, hiding his face and clinging to him.  
  
"I, _yes_, Billy, I, I _learned_," he rubs his cheek against Billy's skin, like trying to show he's _good_ and silently asking to _cuddle_ him at the same time. "Gonna listen to you _all the time_."  
  
Billy gives him his cuddles, scratching his nape.  
"Okay."

***

Harrington refuses to give him his tshirt back. Well, _refuses_ isn't the right word - the boy would obey _wordlessly_ if Billy told him to do it. It's just he keeps touching it and looks up at Billy, all _defenceless_, asking in a soft voice if he may _please_ stay in it. Because it feels _cozy_, his words.  
  
And Billy's not wrapped around the little shit's finger. _No_. He just goes and asks Jonathan if he can borrow some of his shirts because he decides that _himself_.  
  
And also because _no way_ he's wearing Harrington's little pastel polo. Although it would be _fun_ to rip it up, the ultimate attribute of this preppy boy image Harrington's asshole dad wants his son to be. _Fuck him_.  
  
Jonathan rummages through his messy pile of clothes in his room when Billy thinks back to Harrington's _painfully_ tight jeans and winces.  
  
It would probably make a _good lesson_, to have him wear these jeans for the rest of the day, and Billy _might've_ thought of it before doling out the punishment, but he's _not_ going to do it now.  
  
Not with the boy being so defenseless and trusting him to be his _protector_, not to bring him any unnecessary pain. Because yeah, it's unnecessary now. And he's going to feel it for _days_ anyway, and it's probably going to hurt from _every_ _move_ today even in the softest pants - so yeah. Fuck those jeans.  
  
"You happen to have some joggers?" Billy waves his hand, catching a basic khaki tshirt Jonathan's throwing at him. "Like, for Steve to borrow? Something..._soft_?"  
  
Byers looks at him, wincing in _understanding_.  
  
"I do," he sighs. "They won't fit though. He's got long legs."  
  
"Tell me about it," Billy smirks smugly.  
  
There are some perks of not needing to hide, yeah. Byers just rolls his eyes.  
  
"Oh _shut up_. I got some shorts though. They should fit."  
  
He makes even a bigger mess, digging for the shorts. Billy puts the tshirt on. Thankfully, Byers is opting for an oversized fit.  
  
"Nice room, Byers," he admits, taking in the surroundings, all the posters and records and stuff.  
  
Jonathan looks at him over his shoulder, a lopsided smile on his face.  
  
"You can borrow some if you want," he nods to the stack of records. "There's different stuff, my playlists and such."  
  
"Really?" Billy raises his brows, looking to the records again.  
  
These look _delicious_. Byers seems to be the guy who'd dig some decent shit. No offense to Harrington, but his music taste is mostly like his boyish face - pretty, cute and sugary sweet.  
  
And while Billy's _so much_ on board with his boy being like this, he prefers his music being, well, more like his _own_ self. Which is, obviously _nothing_ sweet about it.  
  
And he could really dig some new tunes.  
  
"I _will_ then," he gives Byers a wide smirk.  
  
Jonathan returns it, getting up with green gym shorts in hand.  
  
"Here," he gives them to Billy. "They're almost new. Loose fit. Must be okay."  
  
"Never seen you in shorts, Byers," Billy tells him, grinning instead of saying thank you. "Never seen you in the gym as well though."  
  
"Well, I _did_ tell you they're almost new," Jonathan scoffs, shrugging. "C'mon."

***

"Thank you for the shorts," Harrington's not the one to skip his thank yous, not now.  
  
Yeah, he's _really_ a polite and well-mannered boy, when he's not being a stubborn asshole.  
  
Billy watches him, smiling. The boy looks even younger, soft and domestic, both Billy's white tshirt and Byers' shorts loose on him, feet clad in white socks. He's left all the attempts to tame his wild hair, brown locks falling on his forehead softly.  
  
Such a _sweetheart_. Not that Billy would say it out loud.  
  
He stands in Will's room, feet planted, arms crossed, and watches Harrington making the bed after their nap. The boy smoothes out the covers so there's no wrinkle, and looks up at Billy expectantly.  
  
"Good job," Billy nods, smiling, and Harrington beams at him, straightening up.  
  
There's just _one more thing_ to be discussed before they can go and join Byers.  
  
"_Now_, Steve," Billy gives him a serious look. "When Joyce and Hopper come home..."  
  
He starts all _stern_, making his point, but hesitates, watching the boy. Harrington looks at him with those baby eyes, big and trusting and _tender_, hanging on Billy's every word.  
  
Billy swallows hard. It feels almost _cruel_ to be stern with him right now. It's probably simply unnecessary, what with Harrington visibly being ready to do _anything_ to be good for him, to do as he says.  
  
He seriously doubts his usual bratty attitude is coming back today, not after this punishment, not with him craving Billy's approval and affection so _desperately_.  
It's probably way more effective to be _only_ soft on him now.  
  
Okay. He's gonna give this soft approach a try.  
  
"I want you to go and _apologize_ to them, okay?" he continues with a gentle voice and smile. "Like a _good boy_ you are."  
  
Harrington nods obediently, not questioning a _thing_, not arguing with Billy.  
  
Yeah. Discipline works _really_ good for him.  
  
"Are they gonna be _mad_ at me?" the boy asks hesitantly, biting his lips.  
  
Billy feels the fear and nervousness radiating from him and lets out a sigh.  
  
Well, he can't expect Hop to be _over the moon_ and reward him for mouthing him off, but...  
  
"I think they're going to be in a good mood after the restaurant," he tells Harrington, scratching his nape. "Cooled down, y'know?"  
  
The boy nods slowly, still anxious.  
  
"The Chief's probably gonna scold you, baby, but that's _all_," Billy coaxes him. "No one's going to _yell_ at you. No one's going to punish you _twice_ for one crime."  
  
Harrington looks at him timidly.  
"_Promise_?"  
  
"I promise, baby boy. You're good, and they know it. They will see you're _sorry_. Everybody makes mistakes. They're nice people. They will forgive you and everything will be _good_."  
  
"Okay," Harrington swallows hard, nodding. "I _deserve_ that scolding anyway, I understand."  
  
Billy wants to hide him and shield from the whole world.  
  
"You're doing so well now," he tells him earnestly. "Such a brave and good boy. Making me _proud_."  
  
Harrington looks at him and _woah_. Jesus. The shy smile Billy gets for these words is worth the _world_.  
  
It's like the boy's whole face _lights up_, his surprised eyes so warm and innocent, his cheeks pink from the compliment.  
  
Billy just grabs his shoulders and holds him in a bear hug, almost crashing the boy.  
Harrington looks a bit breathless when he finally lets him go, but _so happy_.  
  
"Why don't we go and try those sandwiches Jonathan promised to make us, huh, pretty boy?" Billy pats his cheek. "Bet you could use something to eat."  
  
"M' _starving_."

***

He's still a bit cautious when they get out, a wild baby animal approaching human - _curious_ but afraid of getting _hurt_.  
  
Billy feels Harrington's fingers curling around the hem of his tshirt, the boy clutching at him absentmindedly.  
  
It strikes him all of a sudden just how much _power_ the boy hands him. It feels kinda _dizzying_. Which means, how much _responsibility_ he's got on him now. He looks at Harrington and sees the boy watching him with unconditional trust and warmth in his eyes.  
  
No one's _ever_ looked like this at him before. No one's _trusted_ him like this. He never felt like he _deserved_ such trust actually.  
  
Billy's breath gets caught in his throat. He squeezes the boy's hand encouragingly.  
Yeah, _fuck it_. He'll take _all_ this responsibility. _Gladly_.  
  
Turns out, Byers _really_ is a good guy. Billy labels him as one of the _best_ guys actually, thinking that it's gonna be fun to hang out with him. Because the moment he notices Harrington's state - and of course he notices _everything_ \- he doesn't show a _thing_. Just gives them a friendly smile and a plate full of sandwiches.  
  
"Hi," Harrington says hesitantly, but his eyes are actually still saying _'please don't hurt me'_, and Billy tightens his hold on him.  
  
"You like strawberry jam, right, Steve?" Byers talks to him in the same voice he uses when chatting with his little brother, and Billy feels the boy's body relaxing a bit. "These ones for you, c'mon."  
  
"Yeah," Harrington smiles, making Billy let out a relieved sigh. "Thanks."  
  
Jonathan watches them both grab their sandwiches and munch on them, then pours some orange juice into three glasses.  
  
"Well, you guys up for a challenge?" he nods to the TV. "We got..._E.T._ and..."  
  
"Not _E.T_.," Billy declares with his mouth full. No one seems to mind his manners. The perks of hanging out with guys instead of stupid sisters. "Boring shit."  
  
"Well yeah," Byers agrees with him, a tiny smile on his lips. "Don't tell _Will_ that though."  
  
"Will just thinks he's _cute_," Harrington chimes in, licking the strawberry jam off his lips. "The E.T. And he is. In the movie."  
  
They go to the TV, food and drinks in hands. Jonathan looks through the cartridges.  
  
"_Mario Bros_? _Missile command_?"  
  
"Now you're talking, Byers."

***

They play both games, taking turns, and Byers proceeds to fucking hand their asses to both of them.  
  
In all fairness, he does have a bigger experience, what with probably playing with his kid brother all the time.  
  
In all fairness, it doesn't spoil a _thing_.  
  
Billy would lie if he'd say losing to Byers isn't frustrating _at all_ \- but he'll take it.  
  
Because everything feels fucking _dreamy_. He probably couldn't wish for a better pastime after this tiring day.  
  
He's lounging on the couch, wolfing his sandwiches down, snorting at Byers' surprisingly _witty_ comments and watching his boy.  
  
Harrington's sprawled on his stomach on the floor in front of them - for _obvious_ reasons, sitting's going to be a _real problem_ for him for the next few days. Billy also hopes his good behavior is going to last _at least_ for the same time.  
  
Byers' fluffy dog's laying next to the boy, looking into his eyes all loyally. Billy pretends he doesn't notice how Harrington's feeding the pup the lion's share of his sandwiches. It's just too sweet. Billy's never seen _anyone_ being so happy about giving away his _food_.  
  
"If your dog's ever kidnapped, you know _where_ to look for him," he tells Byers, distracting him from the game.  
  
Jonathan glances at what's going on on the floor and gives Billy an unimpressed look.  
  
"If that ever happens, _you're_ gonna be the one doing all the kidnapping for him, and we _both_ know it."  
  
Which is. Filthy _lies_.  
  
"_Shit_," Byers loses and turns to Billy, glaring. The distracting plan worked.  
  
"My turn," Billy singsongs, grinning at him and grabbing the controller.  
  
Jonathan just shakes his head and looks at Harrington, catching him red-handed.  
  
"Ugh _Steve_! Stop it I've _told_ you!"  
  
Harrington turns to them, sheepish smile on his face. Little charmer.  
  
"It's just he's asking so _nicely_," he explains, gesturing to the dog. "Maybe he's _hungry_."  
  
"Oh _yeah_, it's not like he got his _own_ dog food in his bowl..."  
  
Harrington looks at the dog and then back at Byers, all _unimpressed_.  
  
"What would _you_ choose, Jonathan, dog food or peanut butter?"  
  
"Oh my _God_," Jonathan groans loudly, and Billy can't even suppress his laugh anymore.  
  
It's probably because of all the laugh and dog's barking and the game's music blasting out of the TV none of them hears the car parking or the door getting opened.  
  
So when Joyce and Hopper enter the house all three of them are giving them the deer in the headlights look.  
  
"Um _hey_ mom, Hop," Jonathan's the first to speak up.  
  
Joyce gives them her signature warm smile, Hopper's hand wrapped around her tiny shoulders. Billy was right, the Chief _does_ look in a better mood after the restaurant.  
  
He glances at Harrington. The boy's not laying on the floor anymore, crouching near the couch and visibly trying to _hide_ behind Billy.  
  
Hopper gives both Billy and Jonathan a friendly nod. Joyce looks at him, her face _unreadable_, and heads over to the kitchen. The Chief stays near the doorway, crossing his arms and fixing Harrington with a stern look. Billy _clearly_ hears the boy gulping.  
  
Even Jonathan glances around worryingly, having no idea what exactly happened but _definitely_ sensing the mood.  
  
Billy turns to Harrington. The boy looks from Hopper to him, eyes wide and scared. So _helpless_. Billy feels his own heart sinking. As much as he would like to shelter his boy from this storm, he can't do it right now. He's _gotta_ face the music.  
  
It's _Hopper_ though. He won't do anything bad. He's a _friend_. He's an awesome dad to El. He's _good_.  
  
Billy's overprotective instincts _still_ scream at him when he's giving Harrington a pointed look.  
  
"C'mon, Steve. We've _talked_ about it," he whispers to him _firmly_, eyes serious. "Go and _apologize_. Go."  
  
The boy gets up slowly and stumbles forward. He lingers near Billy hesitantly, so he has to give him a little helpful push.  
  
"_Go_."  
  
Harrington approaches the glowering Chief, dragging his feet, eyes trained on the floor, his ears burning - _every bit_ the guilty boy he is.  
  
He stops nearby, keeping at what he probably considers a _safe distance_ from Hopper, still _not daring_ to look him in the eye.  
  
The Chief gives him a once-over, expression unreadable, jaw set, and nods to himself.  
  
"Excuse us for a minute," he says gruffly to no one in particular, opening the door and watching Harrington with narrowed eyes.  
  
Billy sees the boy's shoulders _tense_ as he gets out hesitantly, and feels like his heart is going to rip its way through his throat.  
  
He can't help but bolts upright, giving the Chief a desperate look, a feral mix of _'please be kind to him'_ and _'I'm ready to kill if you're not'_.  
  
Hopper holds the door, letting Harrington out, and catches Billy's eye. His face doesn't show _anything_ at first, but then his lips curl into a tiny grin, paired with a _wink_, before he returns to his signature stern expression.  
  
And then he goes out too, closing the fucking door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think guys?  
Love ya.  
🖤


	9. nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always like this with fucking Harrington. One moment he's a spoiled brat who needs a good thrashing, the next one he decides to go fight fucking monsters with his bare hands, and then all of a sudden he's a little lost puppy, fragile and easy to break.
> 
> Unbelievable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's been a while, I know, I'm sorry!  
Couldn't figure this chapter out. But it's here now, the biggest one to date too, and it's fluff with a good dollop of hurt/comfort.  
Also I've made a little collage for this fic for you, so hope you love it...:)

Hours pass. It's probably just a couple of _minutes_ actually, but it's, like, _hours_. Fucking _eternity_.  
Billy's on edge.  
  
"Hey. It's okay," Jonathan whispers, trying to cheer him up and offering him a controller. "Hopper only _looks_ intimidating. He's nice. And he's got such a soft spot for both of you guys. He won't do anything bad."  
  
Billy nods absentmindedly, biting his thumbnail and straining his ears, trying to hear at least _something_ from the outside. Nothing.  
  
It's probably good, it means the Chief's not yelling. Joyce promised Billy he wouldn't, told him they had a talk at Enzo's, something about _'how he should talk to kids even when they're teens and a pain in the ass'_.  
  
She pats Billy on the shoulder and goes to make a dinner, telling him and Jonathan to go back to their game. Yeah, as if it's possible.  
  
It's not that he doesn't trust Hopper. And Harrington _deserves_ a good scolding for sure. It's just. One wrong word is enough to hurt him right now, and Billy _can't stand_ him being hurt. Do anything to _him_, but don't touch _his boy_.  
  
He promised Harrington there wouldn't be yelling, he promised him there wouldn't be any more punishment for his stunt.  
But he's _not_ there to control it, not there to protect him, and if something happens it means he betrayed his _trust_.  
  
Jesus. Giving him a thrashing was honestly _so much easier_ than having to wait while someone's scolding him.  
Because Billy knows how much the boy can take, he knows what triggers and scares him, he knows when to be stern and when to be soft, he just _knows him_, period, and he has _no idea_ how the hell did that happen.  
  
He squeezes the controller in his hands, nearly crashing the plastic, feeling like a fucking _caged animal_.  
  
"..._Billy_!" Jonathan's nudging him in the ribs, apparently calling him not for the first time.  
  
"_What?_" he bites out, frowning at Byers and immediately feeling shitty about it. It's not his fault.  
  
Jonathan doesn't seem to mind though, watching him closely with his dark eyes, and then leans forward, whispering.  
  
"If you open that window just a crack," he gives a slightly perceptible nod. "You'll be able to _see_ them and probably _hear_ their talk too."  
  
Billy looks at him with wide eyes.  
  
"But just a _crack_," Byers warns him, looking intensely. "Otherwise it would squeak as hell. Go now. I'll distract mom."  
  
Billy still looks at him, stunned. If someone would tell him that some guy, even a good guy, can turn into his _friend_ just like that, in a snap - he'd _never_ believe that bullshit. And here he is.  
  
"Byers," Billy claps him on the shoulder, wanting to tell something important and not knowing how. "_Jonathan_."  
  
Byers just rolls his eyes, giving him his signature little smirk, and claps him on the shoulder in return.

***

Joyce probably sees right through their clumsy distracting plan. She's just too kind to point it out, so she plays along, letting Jonathan talk her ears off while Billy's making his way to the said window.  
  
That probably should be embarrassing, but he can't bring himself to care.  
  
He actually has to put some effort into opening the damn thing quietly, and then into keeping it just a crack opened.  
  
But then he peeks out just a bit, hiding behind the curtain, and he sees them. And he hears them.  
  
Both of them are on the porch. Harrington's got into the corner, shifting from foot to foot, head down, eyes darting around. He's obviously trying to put his hands in the pockets, but there aren't any on Byers' gym shorts, so he ends up just putting them behind his back nervously.  
  
He's such a lanky boy, one of the tallest in the school, but he somehow manages to look so _small_ right now that Billy's heart aches.  
  
The Chief looks at Harrington all stern, hands on his hips. His voice is low and calm though.  
  
"..._unacceptable_, don't you think?" there's no anger, but he's _definitely_ determined to get the message across.  
  
Well, Billy understands that. As long as he's not going overboard.  
  
"Yes, sir," Harrington's voice is barely a whisper.  
  
"Yeah, I think so too," Hopper nods, giving him a piercing look. "Seems like you've _learned_ something since our little incident though, hmm?"  
  
Harrington turns beet red, nodding.  
  
"Good. I don't want to hear those words from you again, kid," Hopper sounds so stern it makes Harrington flinch a bit. "And I expect you to be on your _best behavior_ from now on. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"Yes sir," the boy sniffles, still not looking up.  
  
He looks sideways, probably distracting himself with watching how evening breeze plays with the grass on the lawn.  
  
The Chief lets out a heavy sigh, watching the boy closely.  
  
"If something's wrong you can _always_ come to me, to _all of us_," his voice becomes warmer. "You'll _always_ get help and you _know_ it. There's _no need_ to act like that, kiddo."  
  
Billy watches Harrington wincing and biting his lip hard before bursting into stuttering.  
  
"I, I didn't mean to. Sorry, Hop... You, you don't deserve such shitty...ugh, shit, ugh, sorry, such, um...b-bad behavior. Please, don't be mad. M' sorry, _please_..."  
  
The boy finally manages to look up at Hopper, and Billy shakes his head, because the Chief is freaking _doomed_. Those big, big doe eyes stare at him all sad and guilty, full of regret.  
  
Billy knows the _exact_ moment Hopper's noticing it, because all his sternness turns into a _pure horror_ in a second.  
  
He looks terrified like all strong and kind men do when seeing women or children crying. And it's not like Harrington's even crying - Billy knows how does his _actual_ cry look like better than anyone - but his sniffles and sad puppy eyes are _more_ than enough.  
  
"_Jesus Christ_. Hey. C'mon, boy, come here," Hopper hugs the boy clumsily, every bit a grizzly bear he is. "It's okay, kiddo. C'mon. It's okay."  
  
The Chief's patting him on the back with _such_ force Harrington's body jolting forward.  
  
"It's okay. I see that you've learned. Clean slate, yeah," Billy watches Hop shaking his head and muttering under his breath something like _'Oh God help me'_.  
  
Billy really wonders if he's the _only_ one who can resist these big brown eyes, especially when they're glistening with tears.  
  
Seems like the answer is _yes_.  
It's probably for the best.

***

They come inside with the Chief's paw still on Harrington's shoulder. The boy still kinda reminds a kicked puppy, but he's got a small unsure smile on his face.  
  
The Chief claps Harrington on the back, pushing him forward.  
  
"Okay, go now."  
  
The boy looks at Joyce cooking dinner, then steals a glance at Billy. Billy gives him an encouraging nod. Harrington goes to the kitchen, not so scared anymore, but still _cautious_.  
  
Billy just rolls his eyes. Honestly, Joyce's the _last_ person to be afraid of. But the boy's probably _too nervous_ to think straight. Billy wants to wrap him in his arms and just hold him, making him calm and relaxed. Making him feel safe. Harrington _always_ seems to feel safe in his arms.  
  
He's jerked out of his thoughts with the Chief's heavy sigh. He takes his hat off, wiping his forehead, looking like he went through a huge ordeal.  
  
Seems like the talk was as unnerving for him as it was for Harrington. Billy has to stifle his chuckle. Byers looks like he's trying to do the exact same thing.  
  
Hopper gets in the armchair next to them, stretching his legs and groaning.  
"_Nice_ little Sunday, what can I say."  
  
"You know, you look _really_ tired, Hop," Jonathan tells him innocently.  
  
"Any _smart_ comments are considered as a wish to donate the _dessert_," Hopper grumbles, glaring at him, but it _definitely_ lacks the bite.  
  
Jonathan just snorts, looking content. Billy smirks too, keeping an eye on Harrington and Joyce.  
The boy's mumbling something guiltily, and the next second he's being pulled into a tight hug.  
  
"I'll pay for the window," Harrington promises. He looks like he can't quite grasp the concept that everyone's forgiven him yet. "I could, um, I could also help to, like, get it fixed?"  
  
"No," Joyce says firmly at the same time as Billy says his 'no way in hell' and the Chief his 'absolutely not'. Jonathan just snorts again.  
  
Harrington pouts.  
  
"The last thing we need is another trip to the hospital," Billy fixes him with a look. "Leave the poor window alone."  
  
"Billy's right. Let the workers take care of it, sweetheart," Joyce pats him on the cheek, smiling. "But you can help me with the dinner. Make the salad, okay?"  
  
The boy stares at her.  
  
"You were at the restaurant," he tilts his head, all confused. "But you're _still_ making the dinner for everyone?"  
  
Joyce looks at him, obviously not getting what's so weird about it. Well, she's _clearly_ not like Harrington's parents, so.  
"Yeah?"  
  
Harrington just shakes his head, a wide smile appearing on his face.  
"S' just. So _cool_. Where are the veggies?"  
  
Billy helps Jonathan set the table, brushing past Harrington and ruffling his soft hair.  
"Good boy," he tells him in a low whisper, so that no one else hears it, and the boy lights up.  
  
He's _really_ being so good though. Billy wasn't even expecting the results of his discipline being _that effective_. But well, he's definitely not complaining here.  
  
Joyce gives Billy a concerned look, frowning at Harrington. Well, _yeah_.  
You still can tell that he was crying hard. She probably also notices how he's _wincing_ from time to time, trying to hide it from everyone, how he's trying to move _slowly_ and even letting out a tiny _hiss_ once or twice.  
  
"Seems like _someone's_ getting extra dessert tonight," Jonathan tells Billy, glancing at Harrington.  
  
"What?!" Billy gives him an incredulous look. "You gotta be _shitting_ me, Byers."  
  
"Nope," he cackles. "Mom's always like that when someone's got in trouble. And, well, we've never even got into _that_ much trouble."  
  
"No way in _hell_," Billy frowns, voice firm. "He was punished. And that was _well-deserved_. _No way_ he's being coddled."  
  
"Ouch," Byers looks stunned. "Aren't you a bit _harsh_ on him?"  
  
"No," Billy tells him seriously. "He needs _discipline_, Jonathan. I'm as harsh as I need to be."  
  
Jonathan looks at him, all thoughtful, then simply nods.  
  
"Well...you know better I guess. He looks _happy_ too."  
  
"Exactly," Billy huffs and goes to Joyce.  
  
He has to let her know there's no need to worry.  
  
"He's okay. I promise," Billy tells her quietly, pretending to steal a slice of sausage from the plate Joyce's putting it on.  
  
She looks at him closely, all serious. Then she just nods, smiling and looking an awful lot like her eldest son.  
  
"You know what you're doing, honey, right?"  
  
"Absolutely," he smiles in return, reassuringly.  
  
"And what about _you_, sweetheart?" Joyce keeps looking at him. "How do _you_ feel?"  
  
"_Me_?" Billy blinks, confused. "What about me?"  
  
Joyce gives him a kinda sad smile and ruffles his hair.  
  
"It's not _easy_ to teach some hard lessons," her voice is the _softest_, and Billy's got a lump in his throat. "You can trust a _mother_ with that. Although I guess I've _never_ had to teach _this_ kind of lessons."  
  
Of fucking course. She'd probably hardly ever had to ground her kids or something.  
  
But _still_ she somehow trusts Billy in what he's doing. In how he handles Harrington. In their kind of _relationship_, for fucks sake.  
  
And she asks how does _he_ feel after dealing with the boy. Oh Jesus.  
  
"I'm," his voice fucking _breaks_, and he just nods.  
  
It's just too much. Her care is _too much_, in the best possible way.  
  
Joyce pulls him into the warmest hug ever. It's like all the comforting things that exist envelop Billy in their soft blanket.  
  
She doesn't release the hug until the annoying prickling sensation behind his eyes stops.  
  
"Oh _honey_," she coos, brushing his curls off his forehead. "You're doing _wonderful_."  
  
The first thing he sees when she lets him go is Harrington's concerned face. It's literally the _most_ adorable thing Billy's ever seen - head tilted sideways, hair fluffy, brows furrowed, his puppy-like expression on.  
  
Joyce looks from Billy to him, her smile warm, and then rushes to save their dinner from getting burnt.  
  
Harrington immediately gets plastered to his side.  
  
"You _okay_?" he whispers, watching Billy closely.  
  
Jesus. What the fuck. Billy's the biggest asshole ever known - well, okay, maybe not _anymore_, but he used to be. How come he's surrounded by the _kindest_ souls on earth?  
  
"M' better than ever, pretty boy," he _means_ it. He _really_ means it.  
  
Harrington hugs him, holding tight and occasionally staining Billy's tshirt with tomatoes.  
  
When Billy points it out, he just shrugs.  
  
"S' _Jonathan's_ shirt anyways."  
  
"Brat," Billy chuckles. "_Behave_."  
  
He emphasizes his words with a light swat. It still makes Harrington wince.  
  
"Go make salad."  
  
He thinks that the boy's going to have to _sit down_ during the whole dinner. Billy wouldn't want to be in his shoes.  
  
Okay. _Fine_. He makes a mental note to get some soothing lotion or stuff like that. The lesson's _clearly_ learned, and he can really do something to make it hurt a little _less_.  
To take care of his boy.

***

Both Will and El are having a sleepover at Wheelers' again. Billy wonders if Mike's and Nancy's parents are getting _nervous tics_ from all the kids running around.  
  
Hopper _definitely_ seems to be on the verge of it.  
  
"I'm just glad all their gang is there, not just her and that Wheeler kid," he grumbles, arms crossed.  
  
"Aw Hop, _nothing_ happens at these sleepovers," Harrington tells him carelessly. "When we were their age and crashed at Tommy's..."  
  
"_Bad idea_, Steve," Jonathan warns him, obviously suspecting that the following story wouldn't calm Hopper down _at all_.  
  
Harrington seems to think about it and agrees.  
"Yeah. _Bad_ idea. Never mind."  
  
The Chief looks like he _does_ mind, like, _a lot_, and is _this_ close to driving to Wheelers' and getting both kids home. Billy chuckles.  
  
"Don't worry, Hop. Considering on what I've heard from Max lately, these girls are probably nerding out on some of her crazy superhero comics and telling the boys how _annoying_ they are. That's it."  
  
Hopper squints his eyes at him, then nods, satisfied.  
"Good. That's my girl."  
  
Billy notices how Joyce's face lights up at those words, a warm happy smile on her lips.  
"Dinner's ready, go wash your hands boys, c'mon!"  
  
Billy doesn't even remember when someone told him to wash his hands. Considering on Harrington's puzzled face, he's too. They're accompanied by Jonathan in the bathroom, and hand-washing turns into the mess-making and splashing the water all over the whole bathroom.  
  
"You have to come again _soon_," Jonathan tells them with a little smirk. "The kids are gonna be _pissed_ that you were here without them."  
  
"Aw, Jonathan, just admit you're having _fun_ with us," Billy smirks, elbowing him in the ribs.  
Harrington grins.  
  
"Yeah, _kicking your asses_ in video games is fun," Byers answers, completely unfazed.  
  
"We haven't _finished_ yet, you dickhead."  
  
"Oh well, I'll _gladly_ kick you one more time," he promises, smiling wider. "For real though, it _is_ fun with you two here. And Will always tells how _kind_ you are to him at the pool, Billy."  
  
What?! Billy feels his cheeks burning. He's not doing _anything_. Just not being too _terrible_ to the kid. Maybe talked to him once or twice.  
  
"And yeah, Steve," Byers continues. "He told me you promised him to play..."  
  
"Oh yeah, yeah, _sure_," Harrington cuts him off, cheeks pink, alarmed eyes glancing at Billy. "Um. _Right_. I guess we're being called for dinner, huh?"  
  
And he storms out of the bathroom, without even drying his hands.  
  
Jonathan looks at him, all puzzled, then squints at Billy, who's stifling his snorts.  
  
"Oh. So the water guns _are_ off limits at the pool?"  
  
"Yeah. But your little brother's already spilled the beans about their plan himself."  
  
"Conspiracy of the _century_. And Steve has no idea that you know?"  
  
"Not a single one. Too much fun, innit?"  
  
They both burst into laughter.

***

Hopper seems to loosen up enough to tell them funny stories at the dinner. Like, real funny, the kind that get even Jonathan not just _cackling_, but laughing out loud.  
  
"Stop," Joyce laughs when he starts another one. "They're too young to hear _this_ one."  
  
"Oh c'mon mom, we're all grown up already," Jonathan complains, smiling.  
  
"Not enough to know some _things_ about my teenage years."  
  
"Ew. _Mom_."  
  
Billy chuckles, eating his meatloaf and looking at Harrington.  
The boy's surprisingly quiet during the whole dinner, seemingly being too busy with soaking up the warm atmosphere, sneaking the slices of sausage to the grateful dog under the table and _gobbling up_ his own dinner.  
  
The last part is _really_ weird.  
  
Jonathan shares a confused look with Billy. Yeah, they've both seen Harrington at the school lunch - picking at his food and ending up giving most of it away.  
  
And yeah, school food may suck, but Billy _knows_ how this boy eats normally, be it the homemade meal or some fast food from the diner. It's always the same lazy manner, always leaving almost _half_ of his food untouched, always _never shutting up_ and taking a _shitload_ of time to finish his meal, still munching when everyone is done and fucking waiting for him.  
  
Yeah, the dinner's real good. But there's still something _weird_ about it.  
  
"When was the last time you _ate_, kid?" it's the Chief who voices his suspicions, and Billy perks up his ears.  
  
"Jonathan made us peanut butter sandwiches," Harrington shrugs, munching on his mashed potatoes and peas.  
  
"You gave the _dog_ almost all of yours," Billy rats him out and doesn't notice Byers shaking his head until it's _too late_.  
  
_Whoops_. Jonathan lets out a sigh.  
  
"Chester ate peanut butter?!" Joyce looks at her son, scandalized. "_Jonathan_!"  
  
"Ugh, it's _my_ fault, he told me not to do it," Harrington mumbles, glancing at her apologetically. "He just seemed _hungry_, so..."  
  
"Honey, this dog _always_ looks hungry when you're eating something that's clearly _not healthy_ for him," Joyce sighs. "Looks like someone got really lucky today, huh, Chester?"  
  
She looks under the table and Billy hopes the dog managed to gobble up the sausage Harrington gave him already.  
  
"It's like with the kids and sweets. They would live off the desserts if you let them," Joyce smiles, shaking her head.  
  
"Well, you _really_ can live off the chocolate if needed," Harrington comments offhandedly, getting back to his potatoes.  
  
The Chief squints at him.  
  
"Is it what _you_'ve been eating lately?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"_What_?!"  
  
Harrington's too engrossed in his food, so he notices everyone's stares a bit late. His cheeks turn pink.  
  
"Well, my mom got this idea that she needs to, like, lose weight...which is total bullsh...not true," he mumbles, playing with his fork. "So the moment my parents got home she made sure there's only, like, this healthy food in the house. Which is really some _grass_ and weird stuff that tastes like _cardboard_."  
  
Byers' eyes get really big and horrified.  
  
"And then there was that stupid dinner, and the food was even _worse_. Dad keeps saying it's _sophisticated_ and costs, like, a _fortune_ so I need to appreciate it, or some stuff like that, but I guess I'm just not sophisticated _enough_ for it," Harrington says with a lopsided smile, which turns kind of _sad_. "Kinda can't stomach it. And I wanted to go to the diner or summat, but kinda didn't get a chance, so..."  
  
"And _what_ were you eating all this time?" Byers asks him _exactly_ what Billy wants to.  
  
"Just some stuff I had stashed in my room," Harrington shrugs his shoulders. "Chocolate, candy, a bag of chips I guess. Wasn't such a long time, no biggie."  
  
"_No biggie_," Hopper deadpans. "Right."  
  
"Why didn't you say you're _hungry_?!" Billy fixes the boy with a look.  
  
"Why did you feed the _dog_ instead of eating all the sandwiches?" Jonathan asks at the same time.  
  
Harrington looks like he's being _interrogated_, eyes wide and expression nervous.  
  
"I wasn't hungry! At least I didn't _feel_ it," Harrington promises Billy and then looks at Jonathan. "And well, I've _told_ you already, he was _asking_ for food, really cute, so..."  
  
"_Unbelievable_," the Chief mutters, and Billy agrees with him _wholeheartedly_.  
  
"_Enough_," Joyce tells all of them firmly, getting up and refilling Harrington's plate. "Stop it with your scrutinizing and let's eat in peace."  
  
Honestly. Such a _mom_.

***

They end up staying the night. Joyce asks them to, and while both him and Harrington are happy with it, everyone else seems _pretty pleased_ too, which is the concept Billy can't quiet grasp yet.  
  
Joyce makes him call _Susan_ though, not listening to his explanations that he really _doesn't need to_. So he has to roll his eyes and make the stupid call. Susan sounds pleasantly surprised by Billy grumbling his whereabouts to her, which is weird as _hell_, like, she clearly shouldn't give a _shit_ where he spends a night, huh?  
  
Harrington's being a stubborn little shit and _refuses_ to call home. No one has the heart to make him, so he's sent off to take the clearly overfed dog out for a quick walk, and Joyce calls his parents _herself_.  
  
Billy tries his _hardest_ to eavesdrop, but he's on doing dishes duty with Jonathan, and it's too loud to hear _anything_ properly.  
  
All he gets is that Joyce's really tight-lipped and her voice isn't pleased _at all_.  
  
"Unbelievable," she mutters to Hopper, adding something quietly.  
  
"I can talk to Harringtons," the Chief sighs, frowning.  
  
"I guess you're going to wait for _months_. They're leaving now," Joyce shakes her head. "Some people really don't even try to communicate with _their own kids_."  
  
Jonathan looks at Billy with a sad frown, and Billy's really glad that Harrington's outside with the dog.  
  
It's a good thing his parents are leaving. He doesn't know a lot about his mom, but Hopper acts more like a dad should than Harrington Sr. for sure.  
And, well, Billy's got Steve, he'll take care of him _just fine_, okay? So, fuck it.  
  
"What are we now, the _Daddy issues breakfast club_?" Byers mutters, drying off the dishes angrily.  
  
"Jesus, Byers," Billy snorts. "Didn't know you're a freaking _poet_."  
  
He gets splashed with water for this remark, and of course has to return the favor, so Joyce has to remind them that if they're going to watch a rented movie, they better _not_ turn the kitchen into the swimming pool.  
  
The movie turns out to be _The Good, the Bad and the Ugly_, probably Hopper's choice. Billy sprawls on the floor lazily next to Harrington and Jonathan, with the adults sitting on the couch, and feels so weirdly good. Like - _at home_. Like - _a part of the family_.  
  
Joyce gives everyone ice cream, and Harrington _does_ get a _huge_ portion indeed, exactly like Jonathan predicted.  
  
Billy's kinda torn between being _against_ it, because the punishment was _well-deserved_ and he doesn't want the boy to think that he's getting _treats_ for it - and being all in because he really feels _sad_ about the situation with his shitty parents.  
  
While he's trying to make up his mind, Harrington settles next to him quietly, _wordlessly_ splits his extra ice cream between Billy and Jonathan, not looking them in the eye and leaving both of them kinda _at a loss for words_.  
  
Billy feels his heart aching strangely, and just wraps his arm around the boy's shoulders.  
  
If he also proceeds to feed him the most of his _own_ ice cream, no one can prove a _fucking thing_.

***

Billy almost falls asleep during the movie. It's not because it's boring, no, he just doesn't remember when he's been that _exhausted_. He really can't wait to get into bed and sleep for, like, two days straight.  
  
The others seem to be on board with this idea, especially Hopper. All of them, except Harrington, of fucking course.  
  
"M' not tired," he tells Billy, looking sleepy as _hell_.  
  
"_Sure_, champ," it's easier to agree, actually. "Let's just get in bed and lay for a bit, yeah."  
  
Joyce hides a smile, knowing _exactly_ what he's doing.  
  
"I don't care what you boys do, but keep _quiet_," the Chief gives him, Harrington and Byers a serious look. "Tomorrow's Monday and I need some _peace_ right now."  
  
"We got it, Hop," Jonathan smiles.  
  
Billy salutes him. He's all up for keeping quiet right now, surprisingly.  
  
Hopper looks at Harrington, who's petting the dog and not listening.  
  
"They're three teenage boys, Hop," Joyce tells him with a knowing smile. "It's going to be quiet only if they _sleep_."  
  
Well. _Fair_.  
  
"Then go to sleep, now," Hopper growls. "_All_ of you."

***

Will's room is a really nice place to spend a night, especially when you're tired as hell and in a desperate need of some rest. Billy doesn't even mind to be surrounded by the kid's plushies and comic books. It kinda creates the cozy atmosphere.  
  
Both him and Harrington are getting so much _care_ it's kinda overwhelming.  
  
Joyce shows them how to turn the nightlights on, the room soaking in the pale blue color. She also gives them new toothbrushes ('those kids always forget to bring them on sleepovers, of course we have some') and even _kisses them goodnight_.  
Billy feels kinda dizzy from all this attention.  
  
Jonathan gives them actual pjs, which is honestly _such_ a foreign concept. Harrington always sleeps in just his boxers, Billy too, if not naked. He figures it's better to put those pajama pants on though, in case they need to go to the bathroom or something and run into Joyce.  
  
He still feels kinda _stupid_ wearing Byers' plaid pants. Out of his element.  
  
Harrington, on the other hand, enjoys it too much.  
  
"You look so soft and _cuddly_," he comments, smile wide. "Like a big teddy bear."  
  
Honestly. Delighted by _everything_.  
  
"Oh shut it," Billy grumbles, but there's no heat behind his words. "I'll _show_ you teddy bear."  
  
Harrington just giggles, little bastard, and puts on his striped pajama pants. Cute. He still has Billy's tshirt on.  
  
"Take it off, pretty boy, s'all sweaty and dirty," Billy scrunches his nose.  
  
"No. M' staying in it," the boy frowns at him stubbornly, but then his expression changes into a puppy-like one in a snap. "Please?"  
  
"Okay, Jesus, you brat," Billy just rolls his eyes. Whatever. He'll get Billy all to himself, but apparently the tshirt still needs to stay. Well alrighty then. He's too tired for this shit.  
  
It's not until they're brushing their teeth and getting ready to bed when Billy suddenly remembers about the _lotion_.  
  
Shit. Joyce and Hopper are in their room already, and he just hopes Jonathan's not asleep yet.  
  
He doesn't react when Billy knocks, but the light's still on, so he peeks in and smirks immediately.  
  
Byers' not sleeping. He's laying in bed, eyes shut, earphones on, all blissed out. _Oh yeah_.  
  
Makes it _so much fun_ when he jumps in horror when Billy shakes his shoulder.  
  
"Ah _fuck_! What!" he looks around like crazy, throwing his earphones away and panting. "_Hargrove!!!_"  
  
Billy bursts with laughter.  
  
"You should've seen your _face_, Byers!"  
  
"_Screw_ you, Billy. Very funny. _Asshole_," Jonathan grumbles, glaring at him.  
  
_The Clash_ keeps blasting from the earphones. Billy _really_ needs to borrow some stuff from his collection. Tomorrow.  
  
"Okay, okay, m' an asshole," he snorts, holding his hands up. "Look, you happen to have some, ugh, lotion for _sunburn_ or summat?"  
  
Byers lets out a sigh, still glaring.  
"How come you have sunburn with all that _tan_?"  
  
"I don't. S' not for me."  
  
"How the hell _Steve_ could get sunburn if he..."  
  
"For _fucks sake_, Jonathan!" Billy barks, exasperated. "S' not for the _actual_ sunburn! Jesus, and they say you're _smart_!"  
  
Byers just stares at him for a couple of moments, and then he gets all red.  
  
"_Oh_."  
  
"Exactly," Billy gives him an unimpressed look.  
  
Jonathan gets up, looking through his stuff scattered around.  
  
"Mom actually got us something...keeps telling that you better be prepared even if you don't go sunbathing."  
  
"Your mom is one wise woman."  
  
"Yeah, bet she had _no idea_ for what _exactly_ it's gonna be used."  
  
"_Shut up_, Jonathan."  
  
"Where the hell is it though...oh," Byers finally fishes out a big bottle from behind his records. "Here, got it. Is it okay?"  
  
Billy takes the bottle, examining its label closely. The description promises to soothe the pain and burning.  
  
"Guess so," he nods. "Thanks, man. Get back to your punks."  
  
"Warn a guy next time before giving a heart attack," Jonathan huffs, getting into the bed.  
  
"Can't promise, Byers. Not tonight though, m' fucking _dead on my feet_," Billy rubs the back of his neck, feeling beyond exhausted. "Still need to make this _brat_ sleep too. The asshole's apparently _not tired_."  
  
Jonathan snorts, then furrows his brows, giving him a worried look.  
  
"You won't, like..." he waves his hand, cheeks flushed. "_Won't_ go _hard_ on him, right?"  
  
Oh. So obviously such words as '_spank_' or '_punish_' are too hard for him to say. _Softie_.  
  
"Gee, Byers, don't get your panties in a twist," Billy rolls his eyes, scoffing, then sighs. "I _won't_."  
  
"Good," Byers gives him a little lopsided smile. "Night then."

***

He finds Harrington looking out of the window. Billy can't figure out if he's doing the safety check or stargazing or just simply buying time before he has to go to sleep.  
  
Billy pinches the bridge of his nose, sitting on the bed and reading the lotion's label.  
  
"Steve?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"C'mere," he pats his knee, not looking up from the lotion. "On your stomach on the bed, pants off."  
  
There's silence, followed by a few quiet, _slow_ steps towards him.  
  
Billy looks up.  
  
Harrington stays next to the bed, fingers on the waistband of the pjs, _twitching_. The boy's eyes are on Billy, _helpless and pleading_ at the same time.  
  
"What," his breath hitches, turning voice into the scared whisper. "_What have I done_?"  
  
Billy just blinks, feeling pretty dumb, and then - _oh_. It strikes him how _horrifying_ his words actually sounded.  
  
"No," he hurries to catch the boy's hand, squeezing it and trying to stifle inappropriate nervous snort, because _honestly_, what kind of a shitty movie this situation is. "No, Jesus. _Baby_. I didn't mean it like _that_. Jesus. You're good, _good_ boy, you're not in trouble."  
  
Harrington watches him, brows furrowed in confusion.  
  
"You're _not_ gonna...?" he tilts his head, all cautious.  
  
"No, pretty boy, why would I," Billy tugs at his hand, making him fall into his hug. "Why would I, you're behaving."  
  
He runs his hand up and down his back, feeling the tension fading away under his palm  
  
It strikes him that he boy _still_ came to him obediently when he called, even when he was sure he's gonna get _punished_ for something. Jesus. He's _learning_.  
  
"Good boy, you're a good boy," he whispers, brushing his lips over Harrington's soft skin behind the ear. "_Relax_, baby."  
  
The boy sighs contentedly, lowering his head on Billy's shoulder and getting comfortable. His breath gets slower and deeper. _Not tired, my ass._  
  
"Baby," Billy moves him to look at his sleepy face. "Lemme take care of you."  
  
He shows him the bottle, watching his confused expression.  
  
"But I wasn't even at the _pool_ today, Billy?"  
  
Okay. He's obviously surrounded by _idiots_. Okay. Clueless Harrington is such a little sweetheart though.  
  
"It's for the _other_ burn, baby boy," he talks to him in the soft voice, putting his palm on the boy's ass.  
  
Harrington flushes _red_.  
  
"I know it _hurts_, sweetheart," Billy tells him gently, slipping his hand under the tshirt and caressing the small of his back. "And you did so good all evening, never even _complained_ about it."  
  
Harrington seems to melt into a puddle from his praise, humming happily.  
  
"So let's make it sting a little less, yeah, sunshine?"  
  
When the _hell_ did Billy learn all those pet names and soft manners is a _mystery_. He decides to explore it later.  
  
"Kay," the boy gives him a hesitant look and nods.  
  
"Good boy," Billy settles him on the bed on his stomach, carefully pulling his pants and boxers down.  
  
_Ouch_.  
  
He inhales sharply, observing the raw bruised skin. This must hurt like hell. He's kinda really _impressed_ that Harrington's never actually complained or whined about it.  
  
Billy touches the skin carefully, wincing. Harrington lets out a little whimper. Yeah, he's got him good.  
  
"Oh you poor thing," he whispers, patting Harrington's back and opening the bottle. "S' gonna sting a bit at first, but then it's gonna relieve the pain, okay?"  
  
"_Uh no_! Don't want it to sting," Harrington says, worryingly, starting to squirm as if he's trying to get away.  
  
Billy has to still him with a hand on the small of his back.  
  
"For fucks sake. I said it's gonna get _better_ then, pretty boy. S' like with sunburn, the lotion feels cold and kinda stings at first, but it _helps_. Did your royal highness ever get sunburned?"  
  
"Yes I _did_, and it _hurts_, I don't _wanna_!"  
  
"_Harrington_," Billy growls, and the boy freezes, gulping. "I think it's both wrong _moment _and_ position_ to talk back to me, whatcha think, baby?"  
  
"_Ugh_," Harrington winces. "Yeah?.."  
  
"So lay still for a minute and let me take care of you, will ya?" Billy scolds him sternly. "M' telling you, gotta put up with it for a _fucking second_, and then you're gonna feel _better_! _Jesus_!"  
  
"O-okay," the boy lays still, glancing at Billy cautiously over his shoulder.  
  
Billy squeezes some lotion, breathing on his palm so it warms up. Honestly. The stuff he does for this little brat is just _ridiculous_.  
  
"On the count of three," he warns. "Gonna be cold and then okay."  
  
The boy nods, tensed.  
  
"One-two-three," Billy tells him fast, putting the lotion on and rubbing it gently on the hot bruised skin.  
  
"Ow ow ow!"  
  
"_Ow-ow-ow_, all is done already, see?" he shakes his head at the boy.  
  
Harrington seems to be listening to his feelings.  
"Uh...yeah," he admits, all surprised.  
  
"What did I say," Billy nods, finishing with a couple of careful touches and pulling the boy's boxers and pants up. "Jesus. You're such a _child_ sometimes, pretty boy."  
  
"M' _not_," Harrington pouts, sounding _every bit_ like a said child.  
  
"Oh of course you're _not_," Billy rolls his eyes, climbing in the bed, taking the boy with him and tucking them both in. "As you say, your royal highness. Now _sleep_."  
  
Harrington settles on his shoulder again, breathing softly into the crook of his neck.  
  
"I told you, m' not even _tired_," he yawns, then licks his lips and seems to be dozing off already.  
  
"Yeah," Billy whispers sarcastically, getting comfy. "I _see_, baby. I see."

***

He wakes up with a start. It's definitely far, far away from it being morning. The room's soaked in darkness, aside from the little blue nightlight. The spot on the bed next to Billy is cold and empty.  
  
"Steve?"  
  
No answer.  
  
Billy sits, glaring into the room's dusky silence.  
"Harrington?"  
  
Still nothing. But there's a muffled noise coming from somewhere in the house. Something _falling_. Something _crashing_. Someone _hissing_.  
Billy's blood runs _cold_. He jumps out of the bed in a record time.  
  
His mind conjures a _shitload_ of the most ridiculous and terrifying scenarios while he runs into the corridor and then into the kitchen. But not a single one of them resembles the _real_ picture.  
  
Hopper stands in the center of the kitchen, hand gripping his left shoulder, expression painful.  
Harrington shifts from foot to foot, glancing at the Chief, all sheepish. The floor's littered with a dozen of shattered pieces of what supposedly was one of Joyce's vases.  
  
"What. The. _Hell_," Billy blurts out, his voice hoarse from the sleep.  
  
Harrington jumps, staring at him, the deer in the headlights look on. Ohhh it can't be good.  
  
"Oh, ask your little _friend_ about it," the Chief growls out, sounding _infuriated_.  
  
Harrington looks from Billy to Hopper guiltily. Billy doesn't like how close his bare feet are to the sharp shattered pieces. It's _unnerving_.  
  
"Get in the chair," he orders him sharply.  
  
"I'll clean it up..."  
  
"I said plant your ass in the _goddamn chair_," Billy snarls, making the boy climb into the chair hastily. "And explain this _mess_."  
  
"Oh yeah, let's hear your _explanation_," Hopper grits through his teeth, wincing. "Kid, fetch me some ice, would ya."  
  
Billy goes to the fridge, carefully moving around the shattered vase, and gets a pack of frozen peas.  
  
Hop takes it with a grateful grunt, pressing the pack to his shoulder and lowering himself into the chair as well. Billy decides to sit down too. They can take care of the vase later.  
  
"Spill the beans, pretty boy," Billy glowers at Harrington, who seems to shrink back.  
  
"I, I didn't _mean_ _to_, okay? I told you I'm _sorry_, Hop!" he looks a mix of guilty and defensive, hugging his knees tightly. "I thought you're... I just thought it's..."  
  
"You just thought _what_, for fucks sake?" Billy lacks patience in the normal circumstances, let alone in the situation like _this_.  
  
"I just thought it's the _demogorgon_ or something!" Harrington blurts out, putting a hand over his mouth immediately.  
  
"_What_?!" Billy and Hopper ask in unison, incredulous.  
  
The boy winces, his face getting scrunched up.  
  
"I just, I was woken up by these weird _sounds_. Real _scary_. So I thought it's...it's the _m-monster_," his ears turn red. "So I went to, like...to..."  
  
"To _fight_ it," Hopper finishes for him darkly. "With a _vase_."  
  
"Well I didn't have my _bat_ on me," Harrington frowns defensively. "And it's kinda your _luck_, innit?"  
  
Hopper lets out a legit growl.  
  
"Should I _thank_ you for bruising my shoulder with that vase, boy?"  
  
"There were those _sounds_! You _scared_ me!" Harrington flails his hands wildly. "What were you even _doing_ here?! You said you wanna _sleep_!"  
  
"First of all, mind the _tone_," Hopper warns him, expression truly _murderous_. "I was just looking for my _goddamn cigarettes_!"  
  
"Well you made weird sounds! See, s' not even my _fault_!"  
  
The Chief fixes him with a killer glare.  
  
"So lemme get this straight," Billy starts slowly, absorbing the information and speaking in a _dangerously_ low voice. "You thought it's the _monster_. So you went to _hunt_ it. All _alone_? Didn't even _think_ of waking anyone up? Didn't even think to wake _me_ up so we go together?"  
  
Harrington turns dark red, squirming and fidgeting on his spot.  
  
"Well, I, I _tried_ to," he mumbles, looking anywhere but at Billy. "But you're, like, _heavy sleeping_ and..."  
  
And it's a _lie_.  
  
"Cut the _crap_, Harrington," Billy bites out. "Eyes up here. Try _again_."  
  
The doe eyes look at him helplessly, all guilty and desperate.  
  
"No," the boy admits quietly, giving up. "I wasn't going to wake you up. I...couldn't have anything _bad_ happen to you."  
  
_Of fucking course_. Of fucking course the asshole was trying to protect everyone _on his_ _own_.  
  
Billy has such an _overwhelming_ urge to bend the boy over right here and spank his ass until he beats _all_ this stupidity out of him that his palms are fucking _itching_.  
  
"Did you ever find those _cigarettes_?" he turns to Hop, his jaw set.  
  
The Chief must sense his mood, because he just gets the pack and the lighter out of the pocket of his hastily thrown on jeans and gives it to Billy. He proceeds to light one for himself and one for Hopper.  
  
"That was really _stupid_ of you, kid, you understand that?" the Chief fixes Harrington with a serious look, inhaling. "First of all, everyone in here is a _better_ fighter than you. Just telling the _truth_, son. I remember the results of your encounters with _both_ Billy and Jonathan, and I hope you know _damn well_ I'm stronger than you too. Even Joyce would _surprise_ you, but okay, let's leave her alone."  
  
Harrington has the audacity to frown all defensively. Billy tries to focus on smoking. In, out. In, out.  
  
"Second. You never - I repeat, _never_ \- go after someone or something dangerous _alone_. Unless you want to _lose_," Hop doesn't even sound _angry_ anymore, just worried and dead serious. "The teamwork is our _only_ chance. We've won only because we were fighting _together_, as a _team_."  
  
Harrington fixes him with a desperate look.  
  
"Oh yeah, and someone's _always_ _hurt_! Or even...even _worse_. I can't let anything bad happen to you," the boy looks at Billy, his voice breaking. "I can't _lose_ you."  
  
The last part is _clearly_ for him. And he can't contain it anymore.  
  
"And you think _I can fucking lose you_, you asshole?!" he wants to fucking _scream_, but he just growls, breathing hard. "You think we are fucking _okay_ with anything bad happening to _you_? You think _I'm_ okay with it?!"  
  
He's gonna fucking _kill_ him. Yeah, that's it.  
  
Harrington's wide eyes show that he clearly didn't think about it at all. Great. Just - _great_.  
  
"Calm down, both of you," Hopper orders them, reaching out to the water pitcher and a couple of glasses. "Drink up."  
  
He pinches the bridge of his nose, watching them both drinking, and fixes Harrington with a look.  
  
"Billy's right, kiddo. No one's okay with you getting hurt. You have _no right_ to risk yourself just like that."  
  
"M' not a _coward_."  
  
"Don't you _dare_ interrupt me, boy," Hopper growls. "Everyone knows you're _brave_, for Christ sake!"  
  
And _reckless_. And fucking _stupid_.  
  
"And if you _really_ care about the _others' _safety - look at it this way. Bluntly, to anyone dangerous you're just a _child_ \- don't you dare argue - unarmed and scared. If there was a monster, he would just _finish you off_ in a snap, then go and kill _everyone else_ in their sleep."  
  
Hopper's voice is _harsh_, as well as his words, and Harrington's face goes white, his eyes huge.  
  
"That's why the teamwork is _vital_, kid," the Chief tells him, dead serious. "For _everyone's_ safety. It's the _only_ way you can really protect people."  
  
Billy _shudders_, the images in his head one more terrifying than another. He grips the glass _so_ hard he almost crashes it.  
  
Thanks God there was no actual monster. Thanks God it was just Hopper looking for his cigs. _Thanks God._  
  
"Do I make myself clear?" Hopper barks, exhaling smoke.  
  
"I guess so..." Harrington mumbles.  
  
Billy wouldn't be so sure about it.  
  
"You _guess_ so?!" Hopper's brows climb up his forehead.  
  
The boy winces, intimidated.  
  
"Ugh, I mean yeah, _yes_, sir."  
  
"We _did_ have a chat about danger issues," Billy talks to Hop but keeps looking at _Harrington_, making the boy gulp. "But I guess we gonna need to have some _more_. "  
  
Harrington looks...not even scared. He looks downright _terrified_. Hopper takes in both his fear and Billy's anger, and puts a huge paw on Billy's back.  
  
"But maybe not _tonight_, yeah, kiddo?" the Chief tells him in a calming voice.  
  
Billy takes deep breaths, focusing on inhaling and exhaling, on the Chief's grounding hand and voice, on how small Harrington looks. It helps.  
  
As long as he doesn't think what _could've_ happened if this fragile boy in front of him ran into the _actual_ monster instead of Hopper...it's _really_ better not to think about it.  
  
"Lemme have a look at your shoulder, Hop" he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
  
He proceeds to examine the Chief's shoulder - it's just a mild bruising, thanks God, there's no even scratch or anything. Billy's sure Hop lets him take care of it only for the sake of calming Billy down from his anger.  
  
Then he cleans up the shattered pieces, not letting Harrington get down from the chair to help. Yeah, no, he knows how that 'help' gonna end.  
  
Then he warms up some milk for all three of them on Hopper's demand, trying his best to stifle a snort. Because honestly, the Chief drinking _milk_? Billy's _this_ close to waking Jonathan up for the goddamn _pictures_. It's a real mystery that he and Joyce are still _asleep_ anyway.  
  
"Shut it, kid," Hop glares at him, but his lips are twitching in a smile. "We're out of beer, and this stuff helps with sleeping."  
  
Billy laughs quietly, shaking his head, and that's when he suddenly understands he's not that _angry_ anymore. Without even yelling or breaking things. _Huh_.  
  
He's still _not finished_ with Harrington, and the boy clearly understands it, according to his worried glances.  
  
"Now let's go back to sleep," Hopper sighs, touching his bruised shoulder with a wince. "No more reckless stuff for you, boy. Got it?"  
  
"He'll _learn_ it," Billy promises _darkly_, fixing alarmed Harrington with a look.  
  
"Yeah. And Steve?" the Chief nods, fingers drumming on the table, his voice becoming way _softer_. "There are _no_ monsters anymore, buddy. It's _safe_."  
  
Harrington looks down, swallowing hard, and Billy's chest constricts.  
  
"Yeah, I - I _know_, Hop," the boy answers quietly, voice hollow. "S' just. Sometimes my _mind_ can't really grasp it."  
  
Billy and Hopper share a look, full of _something-needs-to-be-done-with-this-issue_ message. Billy doesn't know how to treat it yet. Seems like the Chief's right here with him.

***

The moment they're back in the room Harrington _freezes_, pressing his back into the closed door and watching Billy's every move _cautiously_.  
  
Oh yeah. At least he doesn't act like nothing's happened.  
  
Billy stops by the bed and fixes the boy with a stern look, his arms crossed.  
  
"C'mere."  
  
"Billy, _please_," the boy whimpers, looking around helplessly. "It hurts from before, _so much_..."  
  
"Harrington, come the fuck here," Billy growls.  
  
He's not that _angry_ anymore, but still pissed and tired as hell, the asshole _scared_ him - and he doesn't take being scared very well.  
Frankly, he wants to go back to sleep already, and these heartbreaking eyes don't help him at all.  
  
"_Billy_," Harrington makes one tiny step towards him and freezes again. "I just wanted to _protect_ you, I didn't mean to be bad, _please_..."  
  
"Do I really need to _repeat_ _myself_, Steve?" there's probably something _terrifying_ in his voice, because the boy gets himself together and comes to the requested spot pretty quickly.  
  
"Don't you think you've tested my patience _one time too many_ today, sweetheart?" Billy _purrs_, but Harrington knows _better_ than to buy this purring.  
  
"Y-yes," he stutters miserably.  
  
Because, honestly? He's kinda _outdone_ _himself_ today. Billy can't believe it's still the same crazy Sunday that started so calm and serene. Oh the irony.  
  
"Turn around," he orders firmly, trying not to fall for the boy's pleading baby deer eyes.  
  
Harrington turns around slowly, like he's _physically_ forcing himself to follow this order. He hangs his head, shoulders slumped, and visibly tries not to flinch so hard - but _fails_.  
  
Billy lets out a sigh. He's not gonna _actually_ punish him, he's not _that_ cruel. He just wants to get his point across, to keep this idiot _fucking safe_.  
  
In all honesty, he probably _should_ discipline him according to the rules. He's actually got an unsettling feeling he's gonna _regret_ being too soft on him in the future.  
  
But he _can't_ do it to him - not now, not after what the boy's gone through already today.  
  
He grips Harrington's shoulder and delivers a firm, but just a _single one_ slap on his ass.  
  
There's a sharp inhale, paired with a tiny hiss, and Billy turns the boy around, wrapping him in his arms and running a hand up and down his back.  
  
Harrington clearly doesn't understand what's going on at first, all muscles tense, his breathing erratic. Then he relaxes a bit, clutching Billy's shoulders.  
  
"I thought you gonna..." he whispers hoarsely, clinging to Billy, all trusting. "I was _scared_."  
  
"You're lucky you're pretty," Billy grumbles, caressing him. "And, Steve. _One more_ _attempt_ to go monster-hunting on your own - and the punishment from before will be _a walk in the park_ compared to _what_ would happen. Do we _understand_ each other?"  
  
"Yes, Billy. I got it."  
  
"You better. Otherwise you gonna regret it _sorely_."  
  
He moves the boy a bit to fix him with a stern glare. This brat _really_ better _behave_.  
  
"Get in the bed this _instant_. M' really not in the mood for bullshit, pretty boy."  
  
Harrington gets under the covers wordlessly, almost stumbling in a hurry. His wide eyes watch how Billy climbs in and lays next to him.  
  
Soon enough there's a hesitant hand on Billy's shoulder, pawing him.  
  
"_Cuddles_?.." Harrington asks so timidly, like he's almost sure he would get _rejected_.  
  
Honestly, after all these stunts, he _might've_ been - if Billy didn't understand him _so well_ already.  
  
But if there's _one_ thing Billy's completely sure of it's that _no matter_ what the boy's done, there's _no way_ he's gonna _ever_ deny him cuddles.  
  
"Sure, pretty boy," he tells him in a calming manner, caressing his hair and brushing his lips at the salty skin. "Cuddles."  
  
Harrington sighs contentedly, proceeding to toss and squirm until he gets fucking comfortable.  
  
When he's _finally_ done, they lay peacefully for some time. Billy thinks Harrington's asleep already and starts drifting off himself, when the boy calls him quietly.  
  
"Billy?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Sing me something?"  
  
What. No, not like that - _what_?! Someone's _really_ decided to try Billy's _patience_.  
  
"Are you _out of your mind_, Steve?!" he snaps, incredulous, voice so _hard_ it makes Harrington flinch. "Have you seen what _time_ is it?"  
  
There's a soft inhale and then, really, _really_ _timid_ -  
"..._sorry_."  
  
And that's, that's just simply _not fair_. This tiny _obedient_ whisper, and how the boy _stills_ next to him, visibly trying to make himself _smaller_, and how even his _breathing_ becomes _awfully_ _quiet_ \- all of it just _punches_ _Billy in the gut_.  
  
It's always like this with fucking Harrington. One moment he's a spoiled _brat_ who needs a good thrashing, the next one he decides to go fight _fucking_ _monsters_ with his bare hands, and then all of a sudden he's a little _lost_ _puppy_, fragile and easy to break.  
  
_Unbelievable._  
  
Billy curses himself under his breath, wanting to take his words back. After all, what's so _terrible_ the boy asked for?  
  
He automatically assumes that Harrington's just a little pampered brat who doesn't know what a discipline is - and yeah, _he is_. But maybe it's not the case _right now_.  
  
It surely looks sometimes that he's used to getting whatever he wants - but it's kinda _not_ like that when it comes to some simple acts of _care_. Like cuddles and kind words and all this shit. Billy's actually never seen _anyone_ treasuring such simple thing as a little praise as much as Harrington.  
  
Billy looks at the boy next to him. He just lays completely_ still_, eyes squeezed shut, he's not moving at all, Billy doesn't even hear him _breathing_.  
  
Like maybe if he just lays still, he won't _anger_ him more, and Billy won't _snap_ at him, won't _scold_ him.  
  
Billy feels his throat constricting. Maybe Harrington asked for this stupid singing because it makes him feel _safe_. Maybe it could help him relax and calm down after this hard, absolutely _nerve-wracking_ day.  
  
Maybe it makes him feel reassured that he's _loved_, maybe it's just _important_ for him to hear Billy's _voice_ right now.  
  
Maybe it's not the spoiled child, but the fragile boy who trusts him _unconditionally_. Still so _scared_ of making him _mad_, always wanting to _please_ him.  
  
_'You're keeping me as yours then?'_  
_'You won't get rid of me?'_  
  
Jesus, did he _have_ to be so _harsh_ on him? He honestly doesn't even _mind_ singing that much.  
  
Billy remembers how Harrington clings to him, _so_ _trusting_, feeling safe in his arms. He doesn't want to lose it. He wants to keep him _safe_, not scared. _Never_ scared.  
  
He flinches when the boy whispers suddenly, not looking up, voice _sad_ and _defenceless_. All his muscles are tense, like he's preparing to get _snapped_ at again.  
  
"_M'_ _sorry_, Billy. Didn't mean to be so _bad_ all this day, I _swear_. _Please,_ _forgive me_. I won't-won't anymore..." he pauses, obviously confused about what _exactly_ he won't do anymore, because he definitely doesn't understand what he's done _wrong_ right now - but the fact that Billy didn't like it is _enough_ to never do it again. "I'll try to be _good_ for you."  
  
Billy bites his lip _so hard_ he almost tastes blood.  
He wants to say _sorry_, but the words get stuck in his throat.  
  
Well, he's always been better with _actions_ than with talking.  
He reaches out, pulling the tensed boy carefully into his arms, holding him as tight as he can, fingers scratching his nape.  
  
"_Shh_," Billy breathes out, swallowing hard, his chest aching. "_Shhh_."  
  
Okay. _Fuck it._ Call him whipped. Sue him. Whatever.  
  
It's not the song you'd hear in his car. It's not the song someone would actually ever catch him _listening_ to, let alone _singing_.  
  
It's maybe his own _prayer_ of some sorts, and it has _everything_ to do with the boy laying in his arms.  
So maybe if Harrington's laying his heart bare before him, Billy can do the _same_ \- just in his _own_ way.  
  
_"Good time for a change,"_ he starts in a soft raspy voice, quiet in order not to wake anyone. _"See, the luck I've had - can make a good man turn bad."_  
  
He rocks the boy a little to the beat of the song, drawing invisible symbols on his back, sneaking in tiny kisses in between singing.  
  
_"So please please please. Let me, let me, let me. Let me get what I want - this time..."_  
  
He clears his throat a bit, voice still as hoarse as it was, and feels all the fear and tension slowly dissipating from the boy in his arms.  
  
_"Haven't had a dream in a long time. See, the life I've had - can make a good man bad. So for once in my life - let me get what I want. Lord knows, it would be the first time. Lord knows, it would be the first time."_  
  
He feels Harrington's heart beating. His long lashes butterfly-kissing Billy's skin.  
  
"Billy?" the boy tells him, barely audible. "_You're the best thing ever happened to me, y'know?_"  
  
And then he just curls up, silently clinging to him with such _pure gratefulness_ that Billy's heart just kinda _stops_ and misses a couple of beats.  
  
He opens his mouth to answer something, something equally _important and heartfelt_, but his boy's _fast_ _asleep_, holding onto him, leaving Billy with a lump in his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of it?  
Billy sings _The Smiths_ (1984), ofc, but to the slower beat, kinda like the _Slow Moving Millie_ version - but with his deep raspy voice. Duh, obviously.  
So better listen to this - _Slow Moving Millie Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want_.  
❓❔I also got a question for you guys. Do you happen to have Tumblr? Was thinking about maybe getting one and posting there some pics and stuff for this story, as well as talking to you, to whoever wants to?:) Yeah/Nah/Whatevers?❔❓


	10. ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's when he's raking his fingers through the boy's soft hair absentmindedly that he decides it. No matter what's going to happen, Billy won't punish his boy today. He'll try to be soft. Oh well, at least his kind of soft.
> 
> Sounds like a challenge, but Billy's a born winner, he doesn't lose challenges, even if he sets them himself. S' just for a day anyway. They also need some rest after yesterday's events, so Harrington's probably gonna behave.
> 
> Billy really hopes so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii. I'm so sorry for such an awfully late update, guys🙏❤. I'm gonna be good and post the next ones regularly now (hopefully).  
❤So grateful to all of you who waits and loves this story. Means the world to me.❤
> 
> Now I want to say huge thanks to **bentnotbroken1** for speaking the words of wisdom and giving me advice, and of course huge thanks to **strangergrove** for bouncing all the ideas, constantly hyping and kicking my ass so I keep writing and being my beta. Thank you so much.  
❤  
I'm kinda nervous about this chapter, so I hope it was worth the wait and you love it guys.  
Please let me know what you think in the comments.🙏

Billy wakes up in a fucking _desert_. Not like he actually ever was in one, but he's pretty sure it must feel like that - hot as hell, kinda suffocating and bright annoying light everywhere. He feels it even without opening his eyes.

He cracks one eye open with a muffled groan. Wave of sunshine's pouring into the window, turning Will's room bright yellow. The air's hot and thick, almost palpable, despite it being only morning. But it's not the _only_ reason why Billy's literally swimming in his own sweat.

Harrington's fluffy hair tickles his chin, soft and annoying at the same time. The boy lays on his stomach, all over Billy, like an overgrown octopus - or, more likely, a warm and cuddly blanket in human form. A very, _very_ warm blanket. And a _heavy_ one too.

"Oh, _pretty boy_," Billy groans, both adoring and irritated, and runs his hands down Harrington's sides. Oh. The boy's gotten rid of the tshirt and pants at some point in his sleep, laying only in his Calvin's. His discarded clothes lay on Billy too, like some additional covers to his own pjs, Harrington himself and stupid blanket.

"Fucking shit," Billy hisses out, wiping the sweat off his forehead and jerking the blanket off them.

Apparently Harrington _doesn't_ appreciate it, because there's a cranky whine and a fucking _kick_ to Billy's shin. Billy stares at him, speechless, but the bastard doesn't even wake up, just keeps squirming on him, getting comfortable.

"_Steve_," Billy snaps, voice hoarse with sleep and annoyance.

It earns him a kangaroo-style kick in the knee, which is _woah_, really mean and rude and quiet _painful_, so it's only _fair_ when he's slapping Harrington's ass for it. The boy goes _completely_ _still_ \- without waking the fuck up - and lets out a little helpless whimper, _clinging_ to Billy as if asking for _protection_. 

Jesus. So much _trust_ in this tiny movement. Billy's breath gets caught in his throat. 

"Shh, baby, m' _here_," Billy cuddles him close, caressing his naked back and pressing lips to the warm tender spot behind his ear.

The boy fusses a bit and then settles in Billy's arms, sighing. 

He still frowns though, long lashes trembling, lips forming a pout even in his sleep. But before Billy manages to do something, Harrington nuzzles his shoulder, brushing his lips over it in a sloppy kiss, and mumbles _'Billy...'_ before smiling contentedly and proceeding to sleep.

Billy's stupid heart _freezes_ and then goes wild in his chest, booming like some kind of a _bomb_ inside him.

This is _ridiculous_. He's ready to spend the whole day like this, just holding the boy close, and watching him sleep, and playing with his silky hair, and just soaking it all in. Yeah. It's official. He's gone fucking _bonkers_. 

Harrington really reminds him of an angel when he's sleeping all peacefully and not pulling his stunts. Huh. Billy feels the fond smile curling his lips.

_Such_ a pain in the ass - and such an open and defenseless little _sweetheart_ at the same time. Billy gently caresses his locks, suddenly thinking about how _desperately_ Harrington needs some _softness_.

Sure, the discipline is _important_, but go overboard with it - and it's so easy to _break_ the boy. He remembers how _gratefully_ Harrington was clinging to him last night. How scared and _heartbreaking_ his whispered apologies were when Billy was too harsh on him.

Harrington, of course, likes to think of himself as of a badass - but Billy's never met someone this soft and _fragile_. Just a _baby_, seriously. Trusting, sweet, gentle baby. _His_.

"_Good boy_," Billy whispers, kissing the top of his head and making the boy sigh happily in his sleep. 

Yeah, Harrington needs a firm hand for sure. But he needs Billy's protection and _praise_ and gentle care as well.

It's when he's raking his fingers through the boy's soft hair absentmindedly that he decides it. No matter what's going to happen, Billy won't punish his boy today. He'll try to be soft. Oh well, at least _his_ kind of soft.

Sounds like a challenge, but Billy's a born winner, he doesn't _lose_ challenges, even if he sets them himself. S' just for a day anyway. They also need some rest after yesterday's events, so Harrington's probably gonna _behave_.

Billy _really_ hopes so.

***

Harrington still sleeps when _everyone_ else in the house is up. Billy's already finished a little morning workout with sleep-deprived and very, _very grumpy_ Hopper. 

"Told you it's a _bad_ idea," the Chief's panting, frowning at Joyce and wiping his forehead, drenched with sweat. 

"If I'm the only one who cares about your health, Hop, so be it," she waves him off, visibly pleased. "You need to do it more often."

"M' all up for it," Billy chuckles, watching the Chief going to the shower with a pained groan.

Jonathan appears in the hallway, his hair wild, and looks at Billy with a little smirk. 

"_Well_?" Billy runs a wet towel down his neck. "I believe I asked you to wake the brat."

"I give up," Jonathan's lips are twitching as he tries to stifle his laughs. "Apparently he's _'not going to school today'_ and I need to _'leave him alone'_."

"Oh for _fucks sake_," Billy snorts and goes to the room, Jonathan follows him, chuckling.

Harrington is sprawled on the bed, seemingly asleep. Turns out he still hears the steps though, because the moment they step into the room there's a bratty whine.

"Go to _hell_, Jonathan, I told you m' not gonna..." the boy rubs his eyes, turning to the door, and Billy really enjoys the view of him freezing on his spot. 

"Uh... _Billy_?" 

"Yeah, pretty boy," he crosses his arms, smiling fondly. "So you were saying?"

Harrington's lips part, his cheeks turn pink, and he looks at Billy like he's trying to figure out if he's in trouble. And then this little shit gives him a _smile_, sheepish and cheeky and a whole lot of _charming_. 

Jesus, how's Billy supposed to put up with him?

Harrington makes grabby hands for him, and Billy has honestly no idea how he could just...not go? So the next thing he knows is him sitting on the bed while extremely pleased Harrington's moving to use his lap as a pillow.

Jonathan rolls his eyes at them.

"I'm gonna make breakfast."

"But _no_ _oatmeal_," Harrington lazily turns to look at him, hair messy and eyes squinted.

"_Steve_," Billy nudges him a bit. "If he's gonna cook oatmeal for breakfast, then you gonna eat it and say your _fucking thanks_. Yeah?"

"_No_," the boy frowns at him, like it's the most absurd thing ever. "I _hate_ it."

Jonathan definitely has a hard time stifling his snorts. He looks like he's enjoying the show, just lacks the popcorn. 

So someone's woken up in a _mood_. If Harrington thinks he can boss everyone around, he's in for a _big_ _surprise_. 

"Byers. Make him fucking oatmeal _specifically_."

"Ugh no! _Gross_!"

"...while we're having a chat about this _attitude_ in the morning," Billy finishes with a growl, fixing Harrington with a pointed look.

His spoiled pout turns into the deer in the headlights look in a matter of _seconds_. 

"_Uh_, no no no, please..."

"Guys, calm down," Jonathan looks at them. "We don't have oatmeal anyways. I'm making scrambled eggs."

Harrington pulls a blanket over his head, hiding and peeking out of it, wide eyes darting around nervously. 

"Jesus, get a _grip_, Byers. You're too soft for your own good," Billy gives him an eyeroll. "Go cook. M' starving. And the _Chief's_ probably too."

Jonathan goes out hesitantly, keeping looking back, a worried little frown on his face. 

The moment the door's shut, Billy turns to Harrington. 

He doesn't get to say _anything_ though, because the next thing he knows is the boy being all over him, basically _glued_ to his front, hugging him tightly baby koala-style.

Billy even feels his heartbeat, fluttering like _crazy_. He rolls his eyes and tries to get out of this grip, but Harrington lets out a little whimper, hugging him only tighter.

Like, look how unbearably _cute_ I am, you can't be mad at me, right?!

It fucking _works_. 

"You're such a _brat_, pretty boy," Billy wants to scold him, but it turns out all soft and _adoring_.

The boy looks up at him from under his lashes and gives him a tiny sweet smile.

"But I'm _your_ brat, right, Billy?"

Billy's breath hitches, his own pulse fastening. He's filled with a weird mix of something _fond_ and _possessive_ all at once.

"Of course, baby," he rasps out, petting the boy's brown locks. "You're _mine_. _Only mine_."

It's not until they're being called for breakfast when he realizes he never even managed to give Harrington that _scolding_. 

Oh shit. It's gonna be a _long_ day.

***

A really, _really_ long day. This thought is kinda on repeat on Billy's mind half an hour later, when he's sitting in the backseat of Byers' car and listens to his punks blasting out of the radio. 

He was expecting to have a lazy breakfast and then spend the whole day doing absolutely _nothing_. He basically _promised_ Harrington to just hang out together, maybe go to the quarry or something, just lounge in the sun and have some proper summer fun - and here he is. In a rush, sitting in the car in this boiling heat, and it's not even _his_ car!

If someone wants to fucking know Billy's opinion, it's a bit _much_ for a Monday morning. 

"Can't believe you forgot about the Camaro," Jonathan shakes his head from the driver's seat, looking in the mirror, all amused. "Hey, I'm sure it's okay."

Billy just pulls an unimpressed face. He fucking forgot his car - his _baby_ \- which is still parked near Melvald's. He cannot believe this _himself_. 

It probably speaks _volumes_ about how all he's thinking about is one certain pretty boy.

Who's being an absolute _pain in the ass_ right now.

Billy just genuinely doesn't understand how the fuck Harrington can be _such_ little shit after he got punished _so hard_ only yesterday. His ass should be _still_ stinging.

He must behave like an _angel_ after that. Well, something tells Billy he _would_ behave if they could spend the day like Billy promised to. But still, _shit_.

It should probably soothe all Billy's worries about the boy being scared of him after getting that harsh whipping - duh, _oh yeah_, scared, my ass, _funny_.

He actually almost wishes for him to be _kinda_ afraid - _not_ of Billy, and in a _good_ way, just maybe to have a little concern that he might end up with a _really_ sore ass and start freaking _behaving_. 

But it's definitely, _definitely_ not happening right now. Billy has a weird feeling that Harrington can actually read his mind, because it's like the boy _knows_ about this no-punishments-today challenge. It's hands down the _brattiest_ of him Billy's ever seen. 

He's already been a cheeky little shit when he woke up, but it's become _way worse_ since Billy got that phone call from confused Susan who told him that the pool needs him to work today. 

And yeah, he can understand Harrington's frustration. But it's not like Billy can actually do anything about the other lifeguard getting sick, on the hottest day no less.

"Stop sulking," he tells the boy for what feels like a hundredth time. "S' not like I'm over the moon about it, pretty boy. And you _still_ gonna be with me all the time."

"No," Harrington gives him a sour look, lips in the biggest pout ever. "You gonna be _working_."

_God_. Such a spoiled brat. It does _something_ to Billy though, because the urge to bend the boy over and spank this attitude out of him is outweighed by some weird _charmed_ feeling that makes him want to kiss those pouty lips stupid, and cuddle the boy, and mess around with him until he laughs this happy little giggle of his.

It also feels pretty nice to be _this_ _needed_. To be needed and wanted to the point when someone throws a _tantrum_ because he can't spend the whole day only with him. It's all _so new_ for Billy.

So yeah. A _soft_ approach. 

"Steve," he coaxes. "You can feel how hot it is already. There's gonna be a crowd today. We need everyone to be _safe_, don't we?"

Harrington just pouts harder, looking out of the window. He has to know Billy's right, just doesn't want to admit it. Oh yeah. Now he sees how they said Harrington can be a total _spoiled kid_.

Yeah, that's _exactly_ how Billy dreamed to spend this day - watching over the public pool jam-packed with people going crazy from the heatwave, and having this stubborn little brat to deal with. _Great_. Dreamy. His head starts to _hurt_ already.

"Will you _stop_ fucking _pouting_?"

"_Maybe_," Harrington drawls, sticking his hand out of the window lazily. "If we stop for an _ice cream_."

Billy catches a glimpse of Jonathan's widening eyes in the mirror. He takes a deep, _deep_ breath. 

Billy knows the heat can make everyone _cranky_ \- shit, he's kinda ready to throw a tantrum _himself_ \- but someone's definitely _overstepping_ his boundaries here. 

If it wasn't for Billy's decision, that certain _someone_ would be over his knee already, begging for forgiveness. Right here and right now. And he wouldn't even fucking _care_ about Byers being in the car as well. 

But Billy's not a _quitter_. So he fucking breathes.

"I want an ice cream," Harrington demands, squirming in his seat. "Or a milkshake. _Guys_! Let's stop and get it."

"Is this how we're asking for the things we want?" Billy tsks, making Jonathan snort. "What's the _magic word_, pretty boy?"

"_Now_!" Harrington kicks his leg, hitting the driver's seat. 

"Hey," Byers frowns in the mirror.

Harrington has no time to answer him though. One swift move of Billy's hand and the boy's laid over his lap in a tight grip, gasping.

"It's really, really _hot_ today," Billy says conversationally, holding him in place firmly. "So m' gonna pretend I didn't quite _hear_ those words and give you a second chance, pretty boy."

Harrington thrashes in his hands, trying to break free, but Billy keeps him in place without any effort. His fingers slip under the waistband of the boy's shorts a bit. Hinting. _Warning_.

The boy lets out a tiny whine and abruptly stops kicking. He _clings_ to Billy instead all of a sudden, clutching his leg in that trusting manner that just gets Billy every single time. 

Shit.

Billy's heart performs those acrobatics that always make him all soft and gushy. Just one gesture, and he's ready to _cuddle_ the brat instead of giving him what he deserves. It all probably shows on his face, considering on Byers' _stupid_ lopsided smirk in his _stupid_ mirror.

Billy immediately makes his expression nothing but _murderous_. 

"_So_?" he rests his palm on the small of Harrington's back, gently caressing the skin. "What do we say when we want something, _Stevie_?"

"Please. We say _please_," the boy breathes out.

"_M-hmm_," Billy lets out a satisfied grunt, making his voice stern immediately. "And what do we say when we're showing this _attitude_?"

"_Sorry_," Harrington adds quietly. 

Okay. That'll do.

Billy hauls Harrington back into sitting position. The boy's cheeks and ears are bright red. 

Jonathan looks at the road in front of him. _Very intently_. 

"Better drop the _attitude_ right now," Billy tells Harrington sternly. "If you don't want to be really _sorry_ later."

The boy clings to him close, brushing his cheek over Billy's shoulder in a silent apology. 

_Cute as shit_. But he still needs to keep the brat in line.

"_No_ ice cream for you," he tells him firmly. Yeah. _That's it_. He's not a total softie. 

"_What_?!" Harrington's _definitely_ not used to being told 'no'. "But I said _please_! And, and _sorry_!"

"Well do you _deserve_ ice cream with the attitude like this, Steve?"

"I don't even _need_ to deserve it, why can't I go and buy it just because I _want_ to!"

"Because _I said so_," Billy growls, squeezing the back of the boy's neck for emphasis. "And believe me when I also say you're on _thin fucking ice_, Harrington."

This has the boy shutting up, except for a tiny _'stupid'_ that he mumbles to the window.

"What was _that_?" Billy snaps, trying to count backwards from ten in his mind at the same time.

"Nothing."

"It _better_ be."

Billy glares at Harrington, who's glaring at his own Nikes in return. 

Jonathan clears his throat. 

"Guys."

Billy looks out the window. Jesus, he hasn't even noticed that they stopped near Wheelers' house - and there's Nancy rushing to the car. Harrington gives him a deer in the headlights look.

"_Behave_," Billy fixes him with a warning glare.

The boy nods his head eagerly. 

"Hi! Will and the other kids are still asleep," Nancy gets in the car, too bright for this hell of a morning, leaning in to kiss her boyfriend and not even noticing the other two. 

Billy steals a glance at Harrington, his stomach kinda twisting with _nerves_. He _knows_ they're over, but still... What if the boy's still _hurt_ by this sight? What if he still has some _feelings_ for this girl? What if...

Harrington _clings_ to him, and Billy lets out a relieved breath. Stupid. The boy nudges him a bit, throwing a super mischievous look before leaning in a bit and...

"Boo."

"_Shit_!" Nancy literally _jumps_ on her spot, wheezing around and staring at them with wide eyes. "_Steve_! Billy!"

Harrington breaks into a careless laugh, and it's so nice to hear that Billy can't help but join him. Byers curses them under his breath. 

"You scared me!" Nancy reaches out to smack him on the head, but Harrington ducks quickly, hiding behind Billy. Nancy kinda freezes, looking at them and _blinking_. 

"Don't mess with _my boy_, Wheeler," Billy gives her a wide smirk, scooping the boy up and enjoying her stunned expression. 

If his grip on the boy happens to be a bit too _possessive_, well. No one can actually prove it. _Suck it_. He's _Billy's_. 

Harrington kinda freezes in his arms, and _oh shit_, that talk about Byers and Wheeler wanting to set them up happened without him. Billy squeezes his nape in reassurance. 

Nancy watches them with _huge_ eyes, her mouth forming a perfect round 'O'. Jesus, that's just too much fun.

"Oh, and _also_. You owe Byers - whatever the _bet_ was," Billy smirks wider, watching her turn _crimson red_.

"What bet?" Harrington perks up, clueless and curious at the same time. 

"_Nothing_," Wheeler and Byers say hastily in unison, both red-cheeked, eyes darting around.

The boy turns to him expectantly. Jesus, he's too cute like this. So Billy just gives him a wink and ruffles his hair.

"_Fine_," Harrington frowns at all three of them and turns to the window, _pouting_. "S' not like I even _want_ to know, jeez."

They manage to stifle their laugh for the _whole_ three seconds. 

***

Nancy keeps stealing glances at them during the ride, seemingly unable to stop smiling. Alright, _fine_. Billy considers she's kinda _okay_. He even gives her a little smirk in return.

"You're _cute_," Nancy tells them warmly, a kind smile on her lips.

"No," Harrington frowns at her, apparently still cross with all of them. 

"But you _are_, Steve!"

"No, we're _badass_."

It makes everyone's smiles _wider_, and the boy looks at Billy with a pout. Alright. Billy can sense _trouble_ when he sees one.

"Enough, guys," he tells them, and his tone must show that he _means_ it. "Stop teasing my boy."

Jesus. It's _really_ nice to say it out loud _freely_ like that, getting a couple of kind smiles in return. _Woah_. Harrington apparently enjoys it too, what with him beaming up all puppy-like again, obviously forgetting that he's pouting. 

They're getting near Melvald's, the store's broken window glaring at them rather darkly even from the distance. Harrington goes all _quiet_ immediately, lowering his gaze and fiddling with the Nikes' laces. 

His ears turn dark red though, and Billy puts a comforting hand on his back. He doesn't want the boy to be haunted by it. Yes, he messed up, but boy, did he pay for his mistake. 

"Oh my _God_, look! Someone's broken Melvald's window!" Nancy looks out of the window, all wide-eyed, and doesn't notice all three boys' looks. "I _bet_ it's Tommy or..."

"It was me," Harrington mutters grimly, looking at his hands. 

Nancy looks shocked.

"What?" she gasps. "_Steve_!"

"_What_?!" he snaps, going all defensive and glaring at her.

"_Enough_," Billy snaps at both of them. "Don't give him shit about it, Wheeler, he's already got it. And you - drop the attitude."

_'Or else'_ is left unspoken.

Nancy obviously still has _a lot_ to say, but glances at Billy and keeps quiet while Jonathan drives them to the store. Billy looks for his car, peeking out of the window. The Camaro seems to be alright, parked at the same spot where he left it yesterday. 

"I cannot fucking _believe_ it," Billy shakes his head, stunned. "The hell. Forgot my _baby_ for a whole damn night!"

There's a sharp elbow in his ribs all of a sudden, the force of the hit making Billy gasp.

"What the _fuck_, Harrington," he snarls, clutching his side and glaring at the boy who elbowed him.

"Sorry," Harrington tells him with an innocent pout. "Must be some bump on the road."

Billy glares harder, but the boy's doe eyes are all big and charming, so he has to redirect his glare to Byers. Jonathan just gives them an eyeroll in the mirror and parks his car.

They all get out and _woah_. The heatwave is alive and kicking. It was definitely super smart of Billy to pick this lifeguard gig as a summer job. He kinda pities Jonathan and Nancy. They're probably gonna sweat it out in the office or have to make some report about the heatwave. At this point he doesn't even know what's worse.

"I feel like the pavement is melting," Nancy mutters.

"Thanks God my _baby_ stayed in the _shadow_," Billy squints at the Camaro and grumbles, fishing all of his shit out of the pockets, looking for the keys. 

The next thing he knows is his cigs being knocked out of his hand and scattered all over the road. The whole fucking _pack_.

"Sorry," Harrington tells him sheepishly. "I didn't mean to."

"_Steve_!" Billy snarls, fixing him with a stare. "What the _hell_ is your problem?!"

The boy crouches to pick the cigs up and throw them in trash. _Great_. Now he doesn't even have anything to smoke. 

Billy lets out the angry breath, shaking his head and going to the Camaro. Byers goes with him, offering Wrigley's. Billy takes it with a grunt.

"Stop calling your car like that," Jonathan tells him discreetly, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smirk. "_Your baby doesn't like it_."

Billy freezes mid step, turning around and watching Harrington. The boy looks all innocent. _Too_ innocent. 

"_Oh you little shit_," Billy breathes out, shaking his head unbelievably. 

Jonathan just chuckles. 

"Harrington!" Billy hollers. "Get your ass in the car, m' gonna be late!"

"Oh my God, _Jonathan_," Nancy looks at Byers in horror. "I need to be extra on time today."

"Jesus, hurry up, before your princess gets her panties in a twist," Billy claps Byers' back. "See ya tomorrow or something."

"Shut up," Jonathan smiles at him. "Don't be too hard on your guy, okay?"

"Jesus, have you even _seen_ him today, Byers? Better _pray_ for my fucking _sanity_."

The chuckle and a clap in the shoulder he gets in response feel nice. Feel like having a _friend_.

Billy waits till the couple gets into Jonathan's car and takes off.

Harrington gets into the Camaro reluctantly, pouting and frowning. The pout disappears _oh so fast_ when Billy leans into him, _purring_. 

"Better drop these _jealous stunts_ with my car, pretty boy," Billy smirks into his ear, lips almost touching tender skin, waves of hot breath making Harrington shiver. "Or you might just end up over my knee, like a little _baby_ that you are."

"_Ah_..." this choked gasp makes Billy's smirk wide.

The boy's huge eyes and dark pink cheeks make it even _wider_.

Billy winks at him and starts the Camaro.

"Seatbelt on. We don't have all day."

***

If Billy thought the pool would be packed today, he was _clearly_ underestimating it. It feels like Hawkins has doubled its population and then squeezed all of it into the public pool. 

"It's _madness_," Heather tells him, popping her chewing gum and sounding tired as hell already. "If I were smarter, I would call in sick today too."

Billy sighs heavily, giving her a curt nod and strutting out of the staff room. He has his _personal headache_ to keep an eye on, in addition to all of this. He puts his signature aviators on, looking over the pool, and quickly spots Harrington.

The dumbass sits in the direct sun. Sure. It's not like Billy _specifically_ told him to stay in the shade. 

God, why Harrington has chosen _today_ of all days to act like a petulant child? And Billy can't even deal with him like he deserves to.

He lets out a frustrated growl and goes to where the boy's seated, super aware of how the whole _row_ of Hawkins' moms, Mrs. - _Karen_ \- Wheeler included, is watching him.

The air is hot and humid, and so are the _stares_ clinging to Billy's skin. He smirks to himself. He likes the attention, so they can look all they want. Better _not_ get their hopes up though. _Huh_.

"Hi ladies," Billy tries to sound bored and disgruntled. 

Apparently it doesn't work so well, according to the excited _'Hi Billy'_ that he gets in return. He gives them a polite - at least he hopes so - smile, getting near Harrington and trying to look all casual.

"Pretty boy," Billy snarls, looming over him. "The _fuck_ you're doing?"

"What? I've put on that _stupid_ sunscreen you gave me," Harrington whines, looking up at him. "Wanna be _tan_ too."

"I told you to get under the _sunshade_, asshole," Billy hisses at the boy, barely keeping himself from whacking him in the head.

"_Yeah_. So you can go and smile at your stupid _fan club_ all you want," Harrington hisses, glaring at the ladies. "They're _ogling your ass_ right now, y'know?"

Billy blurts out a laugh. Jesus, that's just _adorable_. 

"Oh, someone's _jealous_ today, huh, Stevie boy?"

"Yeah, you _wish_," Harrington crosses his arms, all defiant. His cheeks get all flushed though.

"You sure _lying_ to me is a good idea, sweetheart?" Billy gives him a toothy grin, cooing almost _gently_.

The boy gulps.

"Get your ass in the shade _right fucking now_. I'm not dealing with a heat stroke later."

Harrington throws him a defiant look, but drags his feet to the requested spot. Fucking pouting all the way. 

"If I could just get some dumb _ice cream_, there wouldn't be such a _thing_ as a heat stroke, y'know."

Someone's _clearly_ getting out of hand. 

Billy focuses on the pool's cerulean water. Water always seems to calm him down. It's not even close to Cali's waves, of course, but it's the best he can get. Must do the trick and stop him from dragging this brat to the locker room and...

Yeah. Right. _Water_.

"Too bad you're being a _disobedient brat_ who's _not allowed_ any sweet treats," he tells the boy quietly, smirking at his face turning _tomato red_. "Drink water, pretty boy. And stay in the shade. Or else."

***

The sun looks like a giant fried egg on an endless bright blue frying pan. And Billy's probably having a sun stroke _himself_, because since when does he make up all those metaphors in his head.

The pool's overflowing with sunburned, yelling and particularly annoying men, women and kids. It's crazy. It's _crazy_, and Billy craves some ice cream himself, and Harrington is being all moody and pouty and just insufferable sprawled on his lounger like an overheated puppy.

Of course he refuses to go swimming, even when Robin comes to the pool too and literally spends all the time in the water.

"No," Harrington mumbles, turning his eyes away, cheeks pink. "M' all _good_."

Billy gives Robin a subtle nod so she doesn't press. She looks all confused, but luckily just shrugs and drops it.

Harrington looks at her swimming like some kind of a fish in her simple dark blue one piece and sighs, pouting. Billy feels bad for him. Dammit, why hasn't he figured out how to make the boy's fears go away yet?!

At least this particular swimming one, so the boy could actually enjoy his summer.

Oh well. He's kinda _glad_ that Harrington doesn't go into the pool right now though.

Billy's never seen him swimming and has _no idea_ if he's good at it. He definitely doesn't need an _extra_ headache watching this little shit in the insanely overcrowded water.

No, thanks. The thought only makes him dizzy. Harrington might be cranky as hell due to this heat, but well. Better cranky than in _danger_. 

When he's finally getting into the water, it's going to be under Billy's _personal_ control. 

"Watching your moody dingus, all _heart-eyed_, huh?" Robin tilts her head, getting out of the pool. She starts shaking water on Billy, but then stops all of a sudden, looking kinda sheepish.

Billy turns around. Huh. Heather is exactly where Robin's glancing at, in all her red uniform and popping chewing gum and ponytail glory.

"Oh look who's _talking_," he chuckles, shaking his head. "I swear to God, Buckley."

Robin's face turns blush, which is a _really_ rare sight. Billy's immediately feeling better.

"Shut up," she sticks her tongue out, getting into the water again. "Have you told your dingus his dumbass head's gonna be all fried up if he keeps sitting in the sun?"

"Oh for _fucks sake_," Billy groans, turning to look at the boy. The bastard is sitting in the sun _again_, and makes a dash to the sunshade the moment he sees Billy. Yeah. _Totally subtle_. Of fucking course. Oh just you _wait_, Harrington. 

"Billy!" an excited voice makes him turn around.

Two of Harrington's nerds are staring at him, swimming attire on and backpacks full of some annoying nerdy shit, no doubt.

Little Byers beams, looking up at him, and Billy smiles back, feeling a weird mix of nice and uncomfortable. Because, really, what makes the kid feel so happy about Billy?

Henderson asks himself the same thing, apparently, considering on his grimace. Little curly _dickhead_.

"Where's the rest of you little shits?" Billy grumbles. 

Their faces fall _immediately_. 

"At the stupid movies," Will sighs, looking real sad. "The _girls_ wanted to go..."

"It's a _double date_ or some other dumb thing," Dustin clarifies. 

Billy makes a mental note to talk with Max about dates. The thought of his little sister - yeah, okay, the shitbird's his _sister_ and he accepts it - going on _dates_ just doesn't sit well with him. _Jesus_.

"_Stupid_," Will mumbles again, switching his attention, and something about it makes Billy's heart clench in sympathy. 

He watches the upset kid closely. He can bet that Will gets those _'oh just you wait, you're gonna change your mind about girls very soon'_ reactions a lot. But maybe - if his gut senses it right - it's _not_ the case. And he won't _'change his mind'_. The kid probably feels it too, just doesn't understand clearly. 

"Their loss," Billy claps him on the shoulder, making the kid smile. "Gonna miss all the _real_ fun, huh?"

Will nods, beaming again, and goes straight to Harrington's lounger.

"Sometimes," Henderson squints at Billy, all suspicious. "You're even _kinda tolerable_. Maybe."

"_No way_, gremlin," Billy snorts, pulling the shithead's cap on his face. "Well _crap_. _Can't_ say the same about you."

He turns on his heel before the kid manages to let out his scandalized shriek. 

***

The dusk slowly starts turning the sky pale purple, the air getting hazy and sweet. Billy's shift is nearing its end, making him sigh in relief. 

Maybe tonight he'll finally get his movie and cuddles and some peaceful time. Maybe they could get some pizza. Maybe Harrington will finally knock off his attitude and fucking behave. He can _dream_, right.

"I cannot _believe_ you _allowed_ that," Robin's amused voice gets him out of his daydream.

He hums absentmindedly in return, before getting back to reality.

"What? The fuck I allowed..._bloody hell_."

He looks at where Robin's pointing. Of course. Of fucking course he forgot about that _water guns_ game those little shits were craving. But clearly he's the _only_ one with the bad memory skills. 

Harrington and both his kids are soaked wet, from head to toe, each holding the colorful water guns, the biggest Billy's ever seen. For a brief second he wants to get his hands on one of them _too_. Like when he was still a little kid, laughing on California beaches, chasing ocean waves. The moment comes and goes, like the wave itself, and Billy brings the whistle to his lips...but doesn't blow it. 

"What? The king of the pool is showing _mercy_?" it's Heather's voice near him. 

"What a time to be alive," Robin adds, stunned. 

"Shut up, _shitbirds_," he huffs, seeing in the corner of his eye both girls exchange smiles, but leaving them to their own business. 

He watches his boy instead, him and the other two little shits letting loose. He definitely should stop this mayhem right now. But...

Henderson always looks a pretty happy kid, so Billy frankly doesn't pay him that much attention, but even he seems...less gremlin-ish than usual. Little Byers, on the other hand, always looks like he's carrying something inside. Something too sad. Too heavy to be carried by a small child.  Right now, though - it's probably the first time Billy sees him as... just a _kid_. Laughing, sprinkling water everywhere, looking carefree. As he _should_.

Billy's eyes skate from him to Harrington. He's _completely_ soaked, from dripping brown hair to Jonathan's gym shorts. Billy briefly thinks of what the idiot's gonna wear on the way home - but the said idiot doesn't seem to mind it a single bit. He just squirts both kids with his water gun, doing a half-ass job of it and missing sorely, and _laughs_, head tilted back.

Billy tries hard not to smile wide himself. Because - because he thinks back to that night when everything _started_, not so many nights ago, and how Harrington was hiding behind his smiles at the kids back then, slumped in his lounger, and how he doesn't have a _trace_ of that fake smile anymore. 

Can it be...can it be because of _them_? The concept that he really - _really_ \- not ruins, but even makes someone _happier_ is a foreign one to Billy. But maybe...maybe he'll even _believe_ it one day. For real.

After all, he wouldn't believe that this, right here, is gonna be his life, even a _month_ ago. He wouldn't believe how much of a _brat_ Harrington actually is too. Nothing he would _change_ in the boy though.

But well. Enough of this sugary stuff. _Ugh_. His _teeth_ start to _hurt_ from these thoughts. Billy brings the whistle to his lips again and blows.

"Hey! You three! _None_ of that on my watch."

All three of them look at him, expressions immediately going from mischievous to somewhat sour. Billy fixes them with a look that must say _'I mean it'_.

The pavement around them is all in puddles, and now it's just simply dangerous. 

"I won," Heather says next to him.

"Excuse me?" Robin sounds scandalized. "I said he would do that _too_!"

Billy looks at them, opening his mouth to give them both a piece of his mind, but then Heather looks at something behind his back, and he turns around.

That stubborn doe eyed _bastard_. Billy lets out a growl, taking off to the trio.

He wonders if Harrington's _ever_ gonna learn to listen to what he's been told. Well, Billy's very determined to turn that _'if'_ into _'when'_ as soon as possible. But considering on how this brat keeps playing with the water gun - and both kids, of fucking course, follow their stupid role model's steps - today's _not_ the day.

"Hey!" he's getting closer to them, trying his hardest to keep his anger at bay. 

It's probably a good thing he's set this _no-punishment_ _challenge_ today, because _boy_, he'd rip Harrington a new one.

If there's anything that _guarantees_ Billy seeing fucking _red_ it's his orders being blatantly _disobeyed_. 

And of course, of fucking course the boy who's _supposed_ to listen to him, is not used to being obedient _at fucking all_.

Oh _well_. He's definitely not getting away with all these stunts. Tomorrow Billy's _so_ gonna work on his discipline. 

"What did I _tell_ you?!" he barks, getting near the little shits and seeing them start running away. "_Hey_! Freeze!"

He manages to catch Henderson.

"Hand over your weapons, shithead," Billy grabs the water gun from the gremlin's hands, paying no attention to his protests. 

Little Byers stops and gives the gun on his own, sheepish smile on his face. Billy rolls his eyes and tries to catch Harrington, but the bastard ducks.

"_Harrington_."

The warning in his tone is obvious, but the boy makes a leap, slipping on the wet sidewalk. Dammit. Billy manages to reach out and catch the dumbass before he falls.

And the next thing he knows is him being _squirted_ with the goddamn water gun. _Square in the_ _face_.

***

"I didn't _mean_ to," Harrington's voice is worried and timid.

Good. Billy doesn't bother with answering him though. He's _too_ angry for it. So he just keeps going through the crowd, dragging the boy along.

At least the little shit hasn't done it on _purpose_, considering on his deer in the headlights look and sheepish apology that he stammered out the moment he realized _what_ happened. 

At least he had the decency to tell his overprotective gremlin to calm down and went with Billy when he ordered him to.

Billy still grips Harrington's bicep firmly, not even caring about being subtle anymore. 

Everyone's used to Billy giving hell to anyone who messes up with his rules, and this stunt is _definitely_ one for the books. There are sympathetic stares from a few people, probably thinking they're about to witness some _murder_.

Well, they're not _that_ far from the truth. Billy has trouble keeping his grip not too tight, so that he doesn't end up bruising the boy's arm.

Harrington stumbles on his way, barely keeping up with Billy's angry stomping. 

"Billy..."

This quiet whine only makes him angrier, makes him legit _growl_.

"Oh no, you better _zip_ _it_."

They almost make it through the crowd when there's someone on the way.

Bright swimsuit and even _brighter_ smile. 

Billy lets out a long breath.

"Dig the new suit, Mrs. Wheeler," he makes an attempt of a nice small talk instead of an impatient glare, hoping his smile doesn't look like a wolf's grin.

He feels Harrington trying to get out of his grip and holds him firm. He hopes it delivers the message - _just you wait, pretty boy_. The hell he's letting it slip.

"Thanks, _Billy_," Karen flashes him a smile, and yeah, right, the suit. 

Billy didn't even notice what _exactly_ she's wearing. But well. It's not like it _ever_ was a problem for giving a compliment. 

"Excuse us, we need to have a little _discussion_ here," he tells her with a charming smile. 

Karen's eyes dart from him to Harrington. The shift in her look is _impossible_ to miss. 

Whereas it's all _hot and bothered_ with Billy, it immediately morphs into some kind of a _mom look_ with Harrington. Yeah. 

Billy is a grown man to her, the one who can give something exciting, a risky adventure of sorts. Harrington here is still a cute doe eyed boy who needs his cheeks patted and the crust from his sandwiches cut off.

Billy finds himself almost growling, baring his teeth all _possessive_. Shit.

"You okay, boys?" Karen asks, brow furrowed. "Is there a problem?"

"Just need to talk about the pool's _rules_ and how you should respect them," Billy tells her meaningfully, seeing in the corner of his eye Harrington going all pink. Good.

If he wants to act like a little rascal, he might as well get used to be _treated_ like one.

Billy nods and moves past Karen, giving her one more polite smile and dragging Harrington with him.

He manages to find a secluded spot and forcefully sits the boy on the lounger there, looming over him. He squints at Harrington, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

An apology comes a long way. But instead of saying one the boy makes a face.

"_Dig the new suit, Mrs. Wheeler_," he mimicks Billy, the mocking tone pissed and bratty as hell. "_M' such an asshole, Mrs. Wheele_-owww!"

Billy gives him a sugary sweet smile, while holding his ear in a tight grip and looking around to make sure no one watches them.

"Jealous much, baby? Sit still and stop fussing around. If you don't want extra _attention_, of course."

Harrington turns red, widening his eyes and tilting his head to Billy's hand, so the tug on his ear gets less hard.

Little shit. Billy tightens his grip, causing the boy to gasp and hiss.

"I think you _desperately_ want a good spanking today, sweetheart," Billy tells him in a fake-gentle manner. "Well, I wouldn't _hesitate_ to deliver. We don't even have to _wait_ till _home_."

He watches Harrington's alarmed face. Good. He's not _completely_ out of hand.

"Just go to the locker room, y'know," Billy shrugs, making a show of how _unbothered_ he is. "Can't guarantee no one _walks in_ during though..."

The boy immediately gets all small, looking up at Billy in fear. 

"...but I guess that could be an even _better_ _lesson_ for you, you _little spoiled brat_. C'mon, let's go."

He won't actually do it, of course. He would _never_ do it here even if he didn't set that stupid challenge for himself today. But well. Harrington doesn't need to _know_ it. 

"_Wh-where_???" Harrington looks at Billy with horrified eyes.

"I've told you _where_, Steve. To the locker room. Up."

The boy's face becomes pale in a second, huge doe eyes helpless and terrified. 

"_No_," it's not his usual bratty 'no', it's a soft and obedient plead. "Please, _Billy_, no. _Please_, don't punish me."

"Oh yeah?" Billy fixes him with a stern look. "And is there a _reason_ why shouldn't I?"

Harrington looks around, absolutely helpless, clearly at a loss for those reasons. 

"_Please_," he whispers, eyes searching. 

The last thing Billy needs is someone's tears. Goddammit. He leans in, looming over the boy.

"I _get it_ _now_ how much of a spoiled kid you are, pretty boy," he snaps harshly. "But if you think I'm gonna have problems _handling_ it - better think again."

Harrington gulps. Now that's better. Billy _so_ needs a break.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. If there's at least _one_ misbehavior while I'm off, Steve," he gives the boy a warning look and releases his ear, making him wince. "Don't think even for a _moment_ that you're off the hook."

Billy marches to the exit. When he turns around, Harrington sits on the same spot with his head down, subtly rubbing his no doubt red ear. Billy lets out a sigh. He's got an overwhelming urge to _cuddle_ this little shit now, so he hurries to the staff room.

***

The best thing about the room is that it's fucking empty and _quiet_. Billy breathes out in relief. He really fucking _doubts_ Harrington's gonna grace him with some quiet time tonight. The only time this bastard is silent is when he _sleeps_ \- which might be not such a bad idea... Cute as shit, and no trouble. Seems like a win-win.

Billy's about to hit the shower when someone barges into the room. For fucks sake, just a couple of calm moments, is it really _too much_ to ask?!

He turns around, quickly checking if his shorts are in place and opening his mouth to _yell_ and curse the motherfucker, whoever that may be - and _freezes_ on the spot. It's Harrington's favorite curly gremlin. 

The kid's face is _pale_ and wide-eyed, he's panting hard, opening and closing his mouth and trying to _say_ something. 

It's like all Billy's insides are grabbed by someone's huge _icy cold_ hand.

Billy doesn't ask him _anything_. He just flees the room, nearly knocking the kid over and running to the pool, his heart in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...what do you think??  
👀  
The next chapter is mostly written so coming soon.  
And also me and **strangergrove** are making a little **Christmas special** side-one shot for this story.  
So keep your eyes on it.❤


	11. eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are people in the water. Mere seconds pass before Billy jumps into the pool, but he feels like there are minutes, hours, fucking eternity during which he just stays there, looking at the three heads popping up in the blue water. 
> 
> Heather, who he spots immediately. Some kid that he vaguely remembers - Billy yelled at him for running and threatened to ban him for life. And the third one. The brown-haired one. Jesus fucking Christ. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, it was a while. I want to thank you all so freaking much for giving this story all your love. For reading, for writing comments - your wonderful comments always brighten my day and make me keep writing, because you're lovin' it. I'll definitely answer everything. 
> 
> Thank you, guys. This fic is definitely getting continued, and hopefully updated more regularly. 
> 
> I'm really nervous posting this chapter after such a long pause and I hope it lives up to your expectations.  
Please, let me know what you think about it.  
💜

The first thing Billy hears at the pool is a _ cry _ . Some little child's cry, a toddler's one. It's madness, people are crowding into a pile at the deep end, blocking the view, blocking the way, fucking _ everything _. 

"Out of the way!" Billy barks, his voice booming louder than all this crying and yelling incoherent mess.

"We don't even know," Henderson is running near him, breathing in hard puffs and swallowing the words. "And he jumped...and she's nowhere...and they both...but I thought..."

"For fucks sake!" Billy snaps, not understanding a thing and getting only more nervous by the second.

He pushes people out of his way unceremoniously. Mrs. Wheeler's scared face flashes somewhere on his way, she holds her youngest daughter in her arms, and Billy understands that it was her - Holly's - cry. For some weird reason it scares him even _ more _.

There are people in the water. Mere seconds pass before Billy jumps into the pool, but he feels like there are minutes, hours, fucking _ eternity _ during which he just stays there, looking at the three heads popping up in the blue water. 

Heather, who he spots immediately. Some kid that he vaguely remembers - Billy yelled at him for running and threatened to ban him for life. And the _ third _ one. The _ brown-haired _ one. Jesus fucking Christ. 

Billy's ears still ring when he dives and helps Heather. The kid clutches Harrington like crazy, putting all his weight on him, like all drowning people do, and they both go underwater, choking. _ Sinking _.

Heather yells something, but Billy doesn't hear her, can't hear anything aside from his own heart pounding in his ears. He manages to untangle the kid's hands from Harrington, Heather taking him and Billy taking his boy.

_ His boy. _ Billy practically throws him on the pavement, yelling at the crowd to fucking step away. He pays _ zero _ attention to Heather and whatever she's doing with that kid, to anyone, his _ whole fucking world _ is narrowed down to the boy laying on the ground in his arms while Billy's doing all the stuff that he was taught to do in such situations. His body moves automatically, thanks God, because his mind is running circles, screaming at him with the only word - _ please _.

Harrington coughs, choking on water and blood running from his nose - that dumb kid must've punched him in wild attempts to hold onto him. The boy's whole body is shaking with violent cough, but his eyes start looking around, actually recognizing what he sees.

"_ Billy _," it's the first thing Harrington whispers all hoarsely, and just like that Billy can hear again. 

"_ Breathe _," he orders the boy, helping him to sit and holding him. "Breathe, but not too deep."

His heart is still going nuts, echoing in his ears. His boy shakes, huge eyes darting around, looking so small and fragile, completely helpless.

Billy just wants to scoop him up and never, never, fucking _ never _ let him go, because it seems like the second he turns around Harrington manages to get himself into some trouble.

He can't even hold him now, has to keep some sort of appropriate distance for all this crowd around them. Billy _ hates _ it. Hates them all with a passion.

"Steve, how are you, buddy?" only now Billy understands that the gremlins, both Henderson and little Byers, stand right near him. 

Harrington nods, disoriented.

"Here," someone - Robin - gives Billy a tissue for Steve, and he presses it to the boy's nose, the tissue getting red immediately. Harrington looks confused, like he doesn't even understand where all this blood is coming from. 

"Where's the kid?" he croaks out, voice rough, and _ of fucking course _ he's concerned about some idiot. The _ asshole _.

"I'll fucking _ kill _ you," Billy growls at him, voice low, and looks to where Heather's taking care of that kid.

He seems to be quiet alright, panting, all scared, and definitely on the verge on big fat tears. His dumbass parents are crouching near him, faces a mix of horror and relief. Heather herself looks shaken to the core.

Not that Billy gives a single shit right now.

Okay. Time for some fucking _ explanation _. 

"What the hell has _ happened _ here?!" he barks through clenched teeth.

"But I _ told _ you..." Henderson flails his arms, exasperated. 

"I don't know how Steve understood that that boy was drowning," it's Mrs. Wheeler again, standing next to Billy, Holly in her arms. "He didn't make a sound. But Steve just jumped into the water, the brave boy...and then they both couldn't get out of there."

He just jumped into the water. Despite being _ terrified _ of it, despite it being some random kid he doesn't even know. Despite not even knowing how to pull drowning people out of the water properly. And the kid's heavy. And panicking. So Harrington couldn't manage to get him out, instead nearly drowning himself.

Billy turns to Heather, infuriated. 

"Where. The hell. Were _ you _?!"

She just stares back, nervous.

"It's not her fault, Billy," Robin starts, but he never lets her finish.

"Just because you - " he snaps, turning to her, and shuts up right then and there.

_ 'Just because you like her' _ , that's what he almost blurted out in his anger. _ Almost _. Thanks God.

Robin's eyes are full of horror, understanding, and Billy feels his face getting all hot and his stomach all icy cold.

"Just because you say so?" he croaks out, like it's exactly what he was going to tell her from the beginning. 

"_ No _," Robin recovers pretty quickly, squinting her eyes at him, arms crossed and tone wry. "Just because I saw how that man was giving her hard times and distracting her from her job, despite how she tried to get rid of him."

Billy tightens his jaw, turning to Heather.

"That's true?"

He knows that even before she nods, biting her lip, seemingly ready to tear up.

"_ Who _?"

Robin points to the gasping crowd, and there's some middle-aged dickhead, trying to hide and pretend that he has nothing to do with this at the same time.

Billy moves to take a step in his direction and dickhead shrinks back like a coward he is.

"_ No _."

Billy turns back, freezing on his spot. Seriously, Harrington looks like a kicked puppy with his bloody nose and wet hair plastered to his forehead - but those huge baby deer eyes and that hoarse stubborn 'no' have way more power over Billy than he'd ever, _ ever _ admit.

He sighs and stays where he is, turning to squint his eyes on the cowering dickhead. 

"You. Banned for life."

"And the police will know about it," Mrs. Wheeler adds all of a sudden, expression furious. "I'll make sure of it."

"You better _ not _ mess with Mike's mom," Billy hears curly gremlin whispering with a giggle and, well, he's probably gonna agree.

He turns to the almost drowned kid, trying to look less feral than he feels. Considering on the kid's face, he's not being particularly successful in it.

"You okay?" Billy barks, brows furrowed.

The kid slowly nods, terrified. Good. Billy looks at his parents.

"You. Banned for a week. For not looking after your goddamn child," he turns to Heather, not even planning on listening to any complaints. "Check if the kid needs to go to docs."

"Sure," Heather nods, giving him a small smile.

Now he can finally turn his attention back to Harrington, who's sitting near his feet, looking every bit a lost puppy.

"Let's go," Billy grabs his arm, pulling him up and trying to look casual about it. "Gotta get ice for your nose...and some dry clothes."

Harrington decides to be obedient for a change, thanks fuck.

"Am I getting banned too?" he asks worryingly, glancing at Billy on the way to the building. 

"I think I'll deal with you myself," Billy chuckles, shaking his head and giving the boy a helpful push. 

***

Harrington looks cute and kinda cozy in the lifeguard's uniform, both shorts and a sweatshirt a bit oversized on him. And still, Billy feels weirdly tired of seeing him in some random clothes.

They watch the gremlins bike away - _ 'it's not even dark yet, no, we don't need a lift, we'll be okay, oh my God' _ \- and finally get in the car.

Harrington rubs his eyes like a tired child, nose a bit red but not bleeding anymore, and Billy feels the overwhelming need to take him home and tuck him in. He barely fights the urge to _ carry _ him to Camaro in his arms.

Little shit probably feels Billy's softness though. 

"Ice cream?" the boy looks at him with the most innocent puppy eyes, fastening his seatbelt.

Billy's expression apparently speaks for itself, because it only takes him to _ look _ at Harrington and the boy shuts his mouth, all wide-eyed and sheepish. 

He even proceeds to behave during all their drive to Harringtons' royal castle. To be honest it's mostly because he falls asleep in, like, couple of minutes into the ride - but Billy still considers it a win.

Until they make it to the house and he needs the keys to get inside.

***

"What do you mean you don't have the _ keys _?" Billy asks for the fourth time, feeling dumb as ever.

Harrington stretches on the lounger near his pool and yawns, still looking sleepy. Billy wasn't planning on waking him up at all - he could easily carry the boy inside and save himself a whole freaking _ lot _ of trouble. If only he could get _ inside _ . Turns out he _ can't _ even with awakened Harrington though - so it's a _ double _ trouble now. 

"You _ sure _ you haven't just forgotten them at Byers'?" Billy almost pleads. That would mean a ride back to their place, but it's still something. 

"M' telling you, I haven't taken the keys with me, I was with dad if you remember," Harrington tells him, sulking, looking like an overgrown cranky toddler.

What was he even _ thinking _ about! What were his _ parents _ thinking about, leaving the town and locking their son out! What is _ everyone _ even thinking about....God, Billy's so tired.

"Why do you even _ lock _ these goddamn doors, no one does it!" Billy snaps, frustrated.

He checks the glass doors to the pool, the windows - nothing. Harrington doesn't even move from the lounger, watching Billy lazily. 

"Told ya, they wouldn't leave 'em opened."

Billy simply glares - first at the boy, then at his room's window. It's the only one opened. Dammit. 

"Okay," he hears Harrington sliding off the lounger and turns around to see him squinting at the window. "M' gonna be quick."

"Where do you think you're going?" Billy lets out a long-suffering sigh, grabbing the collar of the borrowed sweatshirt the boy's wearing.

"M' gonna _ climb _ it and..."

"You're not climbing _ shit _."

"But _ Billy _ !" the boy flails his arms, exasperated, trying to get out of his hold. "I _ told _ you! I'm good at it..."

"I said _ no _. You didn't quite hear me?"

"...like a _ ninja _ ! I have _ experience _!"

"How 'bout that, you keep the act - and I'm taking you over my lap right here, and all your posh neighborhood runs to see why's pretty little Stevie crying so hard. Hm? I have _ experience _, y'know. "

The pout Harrington gives him in return is probably the biggest he's seen so far. He freezes on his spot though, crossing his arms and glaring. Royal brat.

"That's what I thought," Billy ruffles his damp hair and goes to the window.

"Be careful." 

***

The stupid window is no joke. The hell Billy's _ ever _ letting Harrington climb up here. When he finally - _ finally _ \- makes it inside, he's all sweaty and panting hard.

"Fucks sake," he breathes out, hopping inside, and immediately falls down and eats the floor, slipping on something. 

"Um. S' a bit messy up there!" Harrington hollers from the backyard, making Billy grit his teeth.

_ No shit honey _ . He groans, getting up and looking around. The room is _ trashed _ \- there's literally no other word to describe it. It's just a one big mess of jeans and polos - Billy's eyes widen at the large assortment his boy owns - sneakers, magazines, chocolate wrappers and hell knows what else. Billy groans, rubbing the knee he fell on, and goes to open the door.

"You're cleaning up your room tomorrow," he bites out first thing letting Harrington in.

"No m' _ not _ ," the brat furrows his brows, plopping on the couch, his nose scrunched. "Hate cleaning, s' _ boring _."

"Excuse me?" Billy's brows climb up his forehead, the thin line of his mouth should be warning enough. 

Count to ten. Count to ten. Count to fucking...

"I said m' _not_ doing the _stupid_ _cleaning_!"

_ That's it _ . Billy has only so much patience left, so if it doesn't stop right now...well, let's just say, there'll be _ tears _.

He jerks the boy up to his feet easily, like a little naughty puppy.

"That's what's gonna happen now, _ sweetheart _ ," Billy snarls menacingly, teeth bared. "You're going to drink some water, get a good shower, do all your hair routine, change into pjs - you _ know _ what I like on you - and go to _ bed _."

Harrington blinks at him.

"The _ hell _ ?! What?! No! Only _ babies _ go to bed so _ early _!"

"Yeah. And disobedient brats like _ you _. I give you ten minutes, Steve."

Billy feels calmer even just from saying it. Yeah. That's exactly what he needs right now. After all these stunts Harrington was throwing at him all day long, enjoying his impunity. After his reckless - yeah okay, _ brave _, but reckless - behavior at the pool.

Billy needs to regain the feeling of control - and to see that this idiot, _ his _ idiot, is safe and secure. 

***

Harrington's _ definitely _ doing it on purpose. The asshole. Billy sits on the couch and watches the boy moving with a speed of an _ old turtle from a nursing home _ . Are there nursing homes for the turtles? What Billy's even _ thinking _ about?!

He's trying to enjoy the whatever show there is on TV, but his eyes keep skating to Harrington, who's wandering around the house with the _ most innocent _ face on, _ obviously _ thinking he's outsmarting Billy. 

It would be even cute if it wasn't driving Billy nuts. The bastard hasn't been listening to him for the _ whole fucking day _ . And Billy just _ never _ takes it well. He feels his blood starting to boil.

He grips the remote, trying to get into what the tough guys on the screen are fighting about. 

He _ almost _ succeeds. And then he hears Harrington opening and closing the fridge for the _ third time _ in a _ fucking minute _. 

Billy takes a deep breath. Counts to ten. _ Backwards _ from ten. He's _ this _ close to snapping at the boy or bending him over - and explaining in thorough details what _ exactly _ obeying means. In the _ only _ way Harrington seems to fucking understand. 

But he decided that he's not gonna do this today. He truly doesn't want to. 

He wonders why Harrington doesn't sense fucking _ danger _ , capital letters flying above Billy's head, glowing in neon. But then again, no survival instinct _ whatsoever _. Right.

He lets out a sigh. 

"_ Steve _."

The boy peeks out of the kitchen, eyes big and all _ too _ innocent, a bottle of water in hand.

"What? I was just, uh, I'm just _ thirsty _!"

Uh-huh. For _ trouble _ . So we know _ exactly _ what we're doing. Okay.

"Whatever," Billy gives him a wolf smile. "I'm just reminding you the curfew's in _ three minutes _ . And if you're not in bed on time you gonna _ pay _ for it. The later, the more."

The look on the boy's face is _ priceless _. Billy feels better immediately. Harrington pales a bit, his lips parting, his eyes widening in horror.

"But...but you _ didn't _ tell me _ that _!"

Billy smirks wider. Even this bratty accusing tone, which is honestly unacceptable, can't ruin his fun.

"I did warn you about the curfew, _ sweetheart _ . Gave you enough time to make it without my threats. But seems it didn't _ work _ ," he makes a show of checking his watch. " _ Two _ minutes."

The boy turns dark red, staring at him with round eyes, mouth opened. Then he jolts towards the stairs, so hastily the water bottle almost falls from his hand.

"And Steve," Billy pins him with his sharp voice. "Don't you _ dare _ skip any of the steps I've told you to do."

"But...there's _ no way _ I'm making it on time then!" Harrington blurts out, arms flailing wildly. 

He looks like it's Billy's fault.

So someone was _ definitely _ going to just run upstairs and jump into his bed. Billy can't even stifle his smirk. So _ naive _ it's even cute. He sees right through his boy.

"Well, then you'll just have to deal with the _ consequences _ . You've had _ enough _ time to do it, haven't you, pretty boy?"

Jesus, sometimes it feels _ so good _ to be a bit mean. Perfectly fair though.

"_ Ugh _!" Harrington lets out a frustrated whine, kicking the stairs. 

Billy even lets this slip. Just looks at his watch, tsks, shaking his head, and turns his attention back to the TV. In the corner of his eye he sees Harrington gulping and jogging upstairs. 

He doesn't even try to stop the wide smirk splitting his face. 

The boy appears _ ten _ freaking minutes later. He sits on the stairs, clad only in the soft gym shorts and a plain white tshirt, expression cautious and worried. 

Billy checks him out, nods, pleased. That's exactly why the shower was a must in this routine he set for Harrington. Not because Billy's some hygiene freak - he can _ easily _ just shake his clothes off and jump straight into bed. He's probably going to do exactly that.

But it doesn't apply to his _ boy _ . No. He likes when Harrington's like _ this _ . Like now. Soft and clean, all blush cheeks and pink lips, lush brown hair falling on his forehead, a bit damp, velvet skin faintly smelling of his expensive shower gel. Everything about him just screams _ 'baby' _ , and that's exactly what Billy _ needs _ after all this bratty attitude. 

"Uh, Billy?" Harrington hugs his knees, glancing at him unsurely. "M' finished..."

Billy checks his watch, nodding again.

"Good. But you're still not in _ bed _, pretty boy. I'll check the time when you are."

The boy wrings his hands nervously. 

"Will...will you p-punish me?"

"What do you think?"

"I-I think probably yeah..."

"Wrong," Billy watches how the boy literally perks his ears, only to give him a smirk. "Not _ probably _ . For _ sure _."

"Ugh _ Billy _!" Harrington lets out a frustrated whine, stomping his foot. 

Billy definitely needs to teach him some _ manners _. 

"I'll deal with you tomorrow though. And stop whining," he tells him sternly. "Or you will earn _ more _."

"_ Tomorrow _?"

"Yeah, some anticipation makes a good _ lesson _ for you, you little brat," Billy gives him an unimpressed look. "If I were you I'd care about that pretty ass and move it to bed. I mean, the clock's ticking. The later you get in bed, the more you get, remember?"

"Ughhh!"

"What did I just fuckin' tell you about _ whining _?!"

Harrington gets up hastily, but lingers on the stairs, shifting from foot to foot. 

"Billy? Are you-you coming to bed too?"

Billy fixes him with a firm look. 

"Well, _ you're _ the one getting an early bedtime, Stevie boy. _ I _ can enjoy my TV show as long as I want."

The message _ 'I'm the adult, you're the baby' _ is clear as ever. Harrington's cheeks and ears become tomato red. The boy immediately looks so miserable though, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped. 

He definitely hates it.

He starts going upstairs quietly, when Billy lets out a heavy sigh. 

"Steve. C'mere."

The boy jumps downstairs in such a record time Billy's eyes get all bugged out. Jeez, if only their coach saw this speed.

"Come, gimme a hug," he opens his arms, and Harrington throws himself into his embrace, nuzzling his neck. Billy feels his breath on the skin and runs a hand over his back soothingly. 

"C'mon, start behaving for me fuckin' finally," he pats his ass and then adds, sighing. "I'll come upstairs soon."

"Promise?" Harrington looks him in the eye, all _ innocent _ and _ cute _ as shit. 

As if it's not himself and his attitude that landed him in trouble. 

Billy knows better than to melt from these puppy eyes. 

"Don't push it, pretty boy," he makes his tone firm, the pat on the ass turning more into a light swat. "Go to bed. Leave the door open. Tell me when you're in, so I can look at the time."

"Okay..." Harrington brushes his own cheek at Billy's, all tenderly, and then adds quickly, after Billy clears his throat meaningfully. "I mean, yes, Billy."

"Better," he releases the hug, setting the boy in front of him. "Go."

Harrington races upstairs, and in a couple of seconds there's an ear piercing yell.

"I'm in bed!"

"Okay!" Billy hollers back, checking his watch. "Be good and try to sleep now!"

He hears a loud whine in return and shakes his head. _ Yeah _. Wishful thinking. 

***

TV is boring without Harrington. Billy makes only around fifteen minutes before getting up and heading upstairs when he hears a phone ringing. Almost immediately there are sounds of steps on the stairs.

"Did I say you can get _out_ _of bed_?" Billy snaps, gritting his teeth and glaring up at Harrington.

The boy gulps.

"N-no, but..."

"You're _ really _ fuckin _ testing _ me today, Stevie," he snarls. "I'll answer. And _ God help you _ if you as much as _ think _ about getting out of the bed again."

He fixes the pouting boy with a glare and goes to the phone. 

"_ Yes _ !" Billy's voice must sound murderous, but has it _ ever _ bothered Robin?

"How's the dingus?"

"How come you know it's _ me _, Buckley?"

She just _ scoffs _, not even gracing this with an answer. 

"You treat his heat stroke properly?"

Huh?

"...cuz you boys are _ dumbasses _, and I know you're..."

Billy fiddles with the pencil for notes near the phone, tapping it restlessly. 

"Buckley!"

"_ Sweet _. I'm caring about his and his boyfriend's stupid asses, and he barks at me."

_ Boyfriend _. Billy lingers a couple of moments, letting the word float in his head, strawberry-sweet and dreamy. Then he clears his throat.

"Whatcha mean _ heat stroke _?"

"I thought you should've _ known _ what it is, being the _ lifeguard _ and all. 

Billy just pinches the bridge of his nose. 

"Headache, feeling too hot and restless, no appetite? I told him it looks like a heat stroke, c'mon," Robin sounds kinda annoyed, like she always does when someone's being _too_ _slow_ for her liking. "The idiot's too _stubborn_ to wear anything on that stupid head of his or sit under the umbrella. _Oh_. Wait. Did he _tell_ you how he felt?"

Billy's feels like _ crushing _ something. He snaps the pencil in two with a loud crack.

"Oh. He obviously _ didn't _."

"M' gonna fuckin' _ kill _ him. Right now."

"No you're _ not _ ," Robin scolds him in a surprisingly stern tone. "You gonna put an ice pack to his head, give him painkillers and loads of water, and make sure there's plenty of fresh air in the room. And tomorrow, when he's all better, you gonna kill him. _ A little _."

The latest addition makes Billy snort.

"Ya know, pretty boy owes you, Buckley."

"Mhm, will make sure he never forgets it."

***

Harrington looks up at him with the _ saddest _ kicked puppy eyes, squirming on the bed nervously. Yeah, _ no _, not gonna help, pretty boy.

"Were you even _ planning _ on fuckin informing me?! You're just - something _ else _ today. And I thought getting it _ good _ yesterday would _ teach _ you some lesson!" Billy seethes, infuriated. "Should I maybe start spanking you _ every day _ for fuckin' prophylactics?!"

Harrington just whimpers weakly, eyes scared and miserable, his shoulders ridden almost all the way to his pink ears. His fingers are fiddling with the blanket nervously, and it's probably _wrong_ to scold him so hard right now, he's scared, he doesn't feel good, but Billy's _so_ _done_ with his _attitude_. 

"Tomorrow, sweetheart, we gonna have a long and nice _ discussion _ about your behavior, disobedience and all these stunts."

Harrington hugs his knees tightly, biting his lip and trying not to make a sound. 

"As for now, you're _ not _ allowed out of bed, except if you need to go to the bathroom. For anything else you need to ask my _ permission _ . I've had _ enough _. Is it clear?" Billy barks so hard that the boy squeezes his eyes shut.

"Yes, Billy, it's-it's-it's it's _ clear _," his voice is barely audible. 

_ Shit _. He stutters only when he's this nervous about Billy being mad at him. And - oh. Robin mentioned the headache. Billy immediately feels like a complete asshole. 

"Does your head hurt now?"

Harrington glances at him, doe eyes big and shiny, definitely trying to calculate which answer gonna anger Billy _ more _.

"A little," he breathes out, and Billy notices how his fingers are white from gripping the comforter so hard.

Of fucking course, he just _ has _ to push it until he makes all of Billy's patience fly outta the window. And then he gets this small and scared. _ Great _. 

"M' gonna fetch you an ice pack and some painkillers," he grumbles, still keeping his voice stern. "Sit. And wait."

When Billy returns from the kitchen, gripping the ice pack so hard his knuckles turn white, Harrington keeps sitting on the bed. Billy almost praises him for listening, when he notices the boy's _ hiding _ something under the blanket.

At this point he's pretty _ surprised _ the room isn't getting set on _ fire _ from the fury in his eyes.

"_ What. Is. That _."

Billy seriously reconsiders the sanity of his own decision. He should've taken this brat over the knee fucking _ first thing _ in the morning. What a _ peaceful _ day it could have been.

His patience isn't running thin, it's barely holding together now. Or maybe it's not holding _ at all _. Yeah. More like that.

Harrington just stupidly shakes his head, staring at Billy all wide-eyed.

Billy lets out a growl and steps towards him, furious. 

The boy backs up on the bed, huge scared eyes never leaving Billy's. 

"I didn't get up! I _ didn't _ ! I just, I just took it! I _ promise _ ! I _ swear _!" his panicked voice hitches up and breaks, terrified, when Billy jerks the blanket off.

The boy _freezes_, panting and letting out tiny scared puppy whimpers. And then Billy kinda freezes _too_. Because under the blanket lays just his own worn _tshirt_, all crumpled. The one that he was looking for multiple times, Harrington _swearing_ he hasn't seen it. There's something wrapped in it though, and Billy's going to find out _what_ _exactly_. 

The boy's hand jerks towards it, like his initial instinct is to grab the tshirt, but he doesn't _dare_. Billy unwraps it and just..._stares_. He wasn't actually guessing _what's_ there at all, but he definitely wasn't expecting _this_. The little _teddy_ _bear_ stares back at Billy, black eyes round and shiny. It's pretty old and battered, and Billy can _bet_ it's from when Harrington was a little kid. So he was _right_ about a plushie hidden somewhere under the bed that first morning he spent here.

"Why is it in my shirt?" he looks at Harrington, fiddling with the bear in his hands.

"So he smells like _ you _ ," the boy's whisper is barely audible. "When I'm alone. Feels _ safe _."

Something in Billy's chest constricts. Harrington keeps looking up at Billy, so small and defenceless it _ hurts _. 

"It-it laid here, next to the bed," he whispers, stuttering again, biting his lips to stop them from trembling. "Please, _ please _ , Billy. Don't take it away? I was _ listening _ to you. I swe-I _ swear _."

Billy sets the bear on the bed carefully and simply starts peeling his clothes off. There's a sharp inhale from Harrington when he's unbuckling his belt, but he just shimmies out of his jeans and throws them away.

The moment he gets into the bed, the boy moves towards him, but then _ freezes _ timidly. 

"C'mon, baby boy," Billy sighs, opening his arms. "_ C'mere _."

The boy gets plastered to him in a _ second _, curling into a ball and clinging close. Billy hugs him as tight as he can without actually crushing bones. The boy shakes and curls his fingers, clutching Billy.

"S' okay, Stevie," Billy whispers, petting his hair and nuzzling the soft locks. "S' _ okay _. I've got you."

Harrington's hair smells like honey and something warm and sunny, something happy and carefree, and Billy tugs the boy closer to himself.

He's _ so glad _ that he still clings to him. Even when he's _ scared _ of his reaction, even when Billy's this _ stern _ \- the boy still visibly considers him his _ only _ protector and source of comfort. He hopes it stays like this _ forever _ . He hopes he'd _ never _ let him down. He hopes Harrington - _ Steve _ \- _ always _ comes into his arms, even if he's in trouble, even if he's afraid Billy might not be over the moon about his behavior - he hopes the boy still always feels _ safe _ in his embrace. 

Harrington squirms in his arms, a bit tensed, and Billy just _ knows _ . He can _ feel _ it.

"Spit it out, pretty boy."

Harrington tenses more.

"What? N-no, s' nothing."

"Steve. I feel that you want to ask something," Billy frowns, watching him and trying to speak softly. "You shouldn't be afraid to ask me anything, baby. I wouldn't get mad at you for that. Ever."

The boy's eyes are on him, searching, unsure, hesitant. 

"Promise?"

"I _ swear _ ," Billy promises him, jaw tight with the want to punch everyone who hurt him enough to be scared to ask a _ question _ , for fucks sake. Well. Maybe he'll have to punch _ himself _ too.

Harrington's quiet for some time, eyes downcast, fingers playing with the blanket. 

"I just, uhh, just wanted to ask. I know I've been a total brat today..."

_ Ouch _. If he tries to sweet talk his way out of the punishment, Billy's gonna have to disappoint him. He can't let him get away with today's attitude. 

His thoughts are probably showing through his body language somehow, because Harrington flinches hard.

"I _ know _ you're going to punish me. I deserved it. M' _ not _ trying to get out of it, I swear," his voice sounds pleading and helpless. "S' just, s' just...can we _ please _ spend some time _ together _ after that? Like, just the two of us? Like, maybe, if you could, the _ whole d-day _?"

Billy freezes, stunned. 

"I know I've been _ bad _ and maybe you think I don't _ deserve _ it. I'll understand it, promise, promise. Just..." he hangs his head, fingers gripping the comforter harder.

There's no response from Billy, so the boy's voice becomes more and more unsure and quiet, like it fades away.

"Just wanna spend some time with you _ so much _ . If it's, if it's okay? _ Missed you _ ... Uh, _ s-sorry _?.." 

Billy rolls him over so the boy's laying on top of him.

"You missed me?"

He holds him tight, noticing how Harrington's cheeks turn all pink, and can't help but grins. _ Cutie _.

"Uh-huh..."

Suddenly _ everything _ becomes _ clear _. Billy squints suspiciously, tilting Harrington's chin to look him in the eye.

"Mhm. _ That's _ why you've been such a pain in the ass all day? Because we couldn't spend time alone together?"

The boy swallows hard, squirming on top of him and turning a darker shade of pink.

"..._ Maybe _..."

"You're a _ royal _ brat, Harrington, you know that?"

"Yeah. I know," the boy sighs, and Billy chuckles, planting a kiss on his pouty lips.

"All _ mine _ though." he cuddles Harrington close, promising softly. "Gonna spend _ all day _ with you, you little shit. Starting now."

The boy smiles, getting comfortable and nuzzling Billy's shoulder.

"Billy?"

"Yeah, pretty boy?"

"Head hurty."

"_ Oh fuck _ ," Billy swears, trying to fetch the ice pack, water and painkillers with groaning Harrington being plastered to him. Apparently he _ doesn't _ appreciate Billy trying to help.

He makes the boy take the meds and settles him on his shoulder, cuddling gently. 

"Still hurts," Harrington scrunches his nose miserably. 

Billy can _ swear _ that he opens his mouth to scold the boy about sitting in the sun like an idiot, but somehow says _ completely _ different things. Horribly, embarrassingly _ soft _ things in a terribly _ gentle _ tone.

"I know, sweetheart. Wait a bit, the painkillers will kick in."

He feels _ mortified _, but then looks at the boy in his arms, and something warm spreads in his chest.

"_ Sweetheart _," Harrington smiles, repeats after him in a quiet whisper, like he's savoring the taste of the word on his tongue. 

"Yeah," Billy confirms quietly, cuddling him closer. "That's who you _ are _."

***

He probably dozes off for a while, because the next time he opens his eyes the room's swimming in darkness. But that's not what _ disturbs _ Billy. 

"_ Blood _."

Billy feels the cold sweat covering the back of his neck. He blinks rapidly, making out pale opened mouth and huge brown eyes, full of fear, staring at him.

"_ What, baby _?"

"Blood. It got in the _ pool's water _ , didn't it? _ My blood _."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading again, so much💜💙


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